


Long and Lost

by ChloeWinchester, Johniarty



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Abuse, Abuse of Power, Anal Sex, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blasphemy, Blood, Bullying, Come Inflation, Comfort Sex, Corvus Glaive - Freeform, Cull Obsidian - Freeform, Dream Sex, Ebony Maw - Freeform, Fantasy, First Time Blow Jobs, Gang Rape, Heresy, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, Low Fantasy, Lust, M/M, Medieval AU, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pedophilia, Pining, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Magic, Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, Somnophilia, Suffering, Tentacles, Torture, Underage Rape/Non-con, Volstagg for a brief moment, Voyeurism, Watersports, Whipping, Woodsman Thor, catholic kink, pillow humping, pisskink, underage loki, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:01:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 51,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24310966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWinchester/pseuds/ChloeWinchester, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johniarty/pseuds/Johniarty
Summary: The night Loki wandered into Asgard, cold and alone, an orphan without a home, a terrible blizzard ravaged the city. 'Witch', the people call him, 'a curse'. The Church took him in grudgingly that night, but now they barely provide for the boy. One fateful day, when fleeing a group of bullies, he runs into the rumored 'monster' in the woods - a hunter by the name of Thor, dirty and intimidating. Thor offers him shelter, but the headstrong Loki only accepts the barest help from him.Little do they know how tangled their paths will become.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 86
Kudos: 227





	1. Into The Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! We set out to write a true collab - not a roleplay we've cleaned up but an actual story written together. This is that! 
> 
> We'll be posting as we edit - it's sitting at over 80k right now, and we're still finishing the ending, so sit tight and be sure to subscribe!
> 
> As an side, we'll be adding more tags and warnings as we go. **PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THEM**. We're carefully avoiding spoilers right now but there is certainly triggering material later on, as well as some other content people might object to. We're marking it as explicit because within the first five chapters there WILL be porn, but this first chapter is clean. 
> 
> Keep yourselves safe, pay attention to the warning and tag updates, and we hope you enjoy!

  
He came in the dead of winter. 

Snow, ice and all manner of frost covered the landscape in thick, unyielding layers. The wind bit through the sturdiest doors and warmest hearths, clawing and clamoring to take the breath away from anyone in its path. Roofs creaked and groaned under the weight winter set atop them, icicles at the edges like daggers to guard it from destruction. Nothing was safe, nothing was immune, and nothing was alive.

Which is why the people of Asgard had closed themselves off completely. Each family was isolated in their shuttered homes, tucked and locked away until it was safe. The city was left untouched by footprints, by traffic of any kind. 

No sounds came. 

The river moved beneath feet of ice, silencing its babbling, the fjords beyond it just as dangerously quiet. The vast fields that were once lively grasslands that stretched for half a mile before reaching the edge of the dark and ancient woods was nothing but dunes of snow. Nothing but the song of the winter winds could be heard. 

Until one day, as night was hastily approaching, there was a cry.

A child, small and fragile by the sound of it, wailed into the dark and echoed off of thick walls and thicker doors. It started as nothing more than a whine, something to be ignored if one tried hard enough. But it was getting closer, louder. The heartbreaking weeping sounded so mournful, filled with hurt and causing every mother’s heart to clench. The need to make it stop, to save it from whatever could be causing it such pain, was overwhelming.

But nothing lived in this cold. Nothing human could ever survive in such a harsh condition.

Still it drew closer, until it was passing by shuttered businesses and inching closer and closer to the homes contained deeper in the village.

_"Demons…"_

_"Spirits…"_

_“Monsters…”_

The Asgardians hissed to each other, curiosity tickling at their windows, beckoning them to take a look. It became a dare, almost, to see what horrible thing of evil might be summoning them so. 

Eventually, fearing they might go mad from the constant cries, a few men crept from their doors. Armed with whatever they could carry, they inched their way along, bearing only a torch for light and prepared to see all manner of beast. 

Volstagg saw him first. 

Staying at the front of the group, he held out an arm to stop them, weapons drawn toward the small shadow staggering toward them, slowly coming into the light.

A child. A tiny, frightened babe dressed in rags, his tears freezing to his cheeks while ice formed in his hair, sobbed and trembled. His little tracks through the snow were bloody from his bare and frozen feet, his lips purple, his skin tinted blue from the wretched cold. He looked up at the men with his large, wet eyes, reaching out to them for help.

Volstagg, young and sure as he was, threw his head back and laughed. 

"All this for a child! What fools we must be! Come, little one, come here," he urged, kneeling with his arms open to the boy. 

The child stumbled into the searing embrace, collapsing from exhaustion right there before he could be wrapped inVolstagg's cloak and properly held. 

"Volstagg, you shouldn't," Fandral warned, staring at the trembling boy with unease. 

"Come now, don't be foolish. It's a child, not a monster," he laughed, standing with the boy in his arms. 

"...A child that came from where?" 

Volstagg paused, staring out toward where the child had appeared from. The half-mile trek through snow, and beyond it, a forest more unforgiving and harsh than any other like it. No child this small could make that journey and live, and there was naught another living soul to be seen that may have made it for him. 

Volstagg looked at the child with his own growing fears. "Get the priest," he said, hurrying to his home while Fandral ran to fetch Father Ebony.

Nearly a decade had passed since that night, and the child had grown. Not in any home, not with any fostering parents, but rather whatever hayloft, abandoned shack or cellar he could find. 

Of course the church made sure he was bathed and clothed properly, as it was expected of them, but any love or kindness did not find him. The superstition surrounding him had never abated, and most still strongly believed the devil to be in the child. There had been no famines, no animal mutilations, no true signs of demonic or other heinous activity as of yet, which is why they let the boy alone, let him live. For now.

The child had raven black hair and wicked green eyes and all the impishness in Hel nestled between the dimples of his smirk, his skin pale as the snow he’d toddled through. He was called Loki, and he was the trickster the name warned of. 

And at the moment, Loki was running. 

He sprinted toward the woods, his forehead bleeding from where a stone had struck him, and the children pursuing him weren't far behind. 

Their cacophony of jeers and threats nipped at his heels, but once at the treeline he would put the proper distance between them. Because the cursed forest, or Jotunheim, as some called it, welcomed him. 

No branch would strike him, no thorns or nettles would catch him, no root would send him sprawling. It simply let him travel as he wished, becoming his sanctuary whenever he needed it. 

He broke through the brush, grinning as the boys were tangled and fighting to catch him and not lose sight of him. Loki turned to see them, grinning, his breath fogging in the late winter air. He waved a little, and took off again. 

He didn't know where he was going or precisely where he would hide, but before he could think on it longer, he ran headlong into something hard, yet alive. 

He fell onto his back and stared up at the creature he'd only ever seen wisps of, the beast that dwelled in this already cursed place. He'd only ever heard one name for him; Odinson. 

* * *

Many moons ago, when Asgard was freshly settled and new, a foolish young hunter boasted of his ability to fell any creature lurking in the tangled brush of the woods. Armed with naught but a bow and two quivers of arrows he rushed off to make a name for himself - Bor the Hunter, greatest in the land! At least that’s what he told anyone who would listen. So sure of himself, so confident in his abilities, that he charged blindly onward into the whispering limbs and scratching brambles. 

In the very heart of the forest sat a cabin near a freshwater pond. Bor drew close, an arrow nocked on his bow. All was silent. All was still. To his right a twig snapped. Bor whirled, raising his weapon. The very breath left his lungs as his eyes fell upon the creature stalking toward him. He dropped the bow and broke into a frenzied run, fleeing from the little grove. He crashed out of the forest and bounded over the fence, eyes wide with fear. 

“Monster!” Bor cried! “A beast! Towering over any man, with hooves growing from its shoulders! Horns atop its head! Pale white fur covering its face!”

Villages do love their yarns. The rumor of Bor’s Beast spread like fire among the townsfolk, evolving with time to tell the tale of a massive man-eating monster in the woods, cursed offspring of the god Odin.

The Odinson.

Thor never really cared for the stories. They made his work more difficult. Harvesting any crops and hunting any game could easily be ruined by young men who wanted to confront the legend on their own, brazen and foolish, just as Bor was. He’d lost more than one buck because of those villagers, and the throttling he gave one of them still wasn’t enough to keep them from bothering him. 

He’d lived in his cabin his whole life, and it and the woods were all he knew. In fact, his father built it for them after his mother passed. Then, when father was gone, it was all left to him. He still hunted to earn his living, but now he did it alone. He did everything alone. 

Once a week he rode into town on his stocky, muscular horse to sell meat at the market. The whispers followed him, frightened women and children away, made some men into cowards and others into brave idiots wanting to bring out the beast.

But he was no beast. Not unless provoked.

The day Bor had found him, he’d been carrying several kills on his broad shoulders, dressed in his winter furs. Nothing more, but once a man pisses himself from fear his perceptions tend to warp into the most heinous of possibilities. The reputation didn’t hurt though. Some villagers whispered that he _was_ the Beast underneath his flesh like something akin to a werewolf - his size, his silence, the blood on his leathers, it only added fuel to their imaginations.

For the most part the town left him to his own.

The day had been quiet. Clouds gathered overhead but without the threat of rain, a chill hung in the air but the frost had long melted away. Spring would be here soon enough, and he wouldn’t have to worry about freezing to death if his fires went out for another nine months. That did mean more people would come around to bother him, upset the woods, but he kept people at bay. Blond hair and beard matted and dirty, brows furrowed, he made an imposing figure no matter what, and that was usually enough to make them run off.

As he gathered limbs for his hearth, something collided with his leg, and he grunted. Thor shifted the wood to his shoulder and glanced down to see what fawn or kit had bounded into him.

It was no fox, nor a deer. It was a boy.

Loki stared up at him, bewildered but not more afraid than he had been just moments ago. He swallowed, his big eyes and long lashes fluttering. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered. 

The voices of the boys broke through the silence and he glanced back, clearly afraid and now rushed, but he didn’t move. The cut above his eye bled more, the cool blood rolling down his pale cheek.

It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened. Thor could see the blood, the cut, the fear in the child’s eyes. Scowling, he tossed his wood aside and took several steps toward the sound of the village children. How cruel they could be…. Thor wouldn’t stand for it. Not in his woods.

He jumped, startled by the sudden shift in the man’s expression. He scrambled to his feet when he stepped around him, ducking behind a nearby tree while his heart thundered against his ribs. 

“Where are you, imp?!” One of the boys bellowed. “You can’t have gotten far!” 

“Maybe he’s pissed himself again!” The boys cackled, stomping over dead leaves and branches. 

“You’re gonna pay for making us walk so far--” 

The children broke through the trees, staring at Odinson. They went white as sheets, stumbling backward and shoving each other as they quickly ran away. 

A low growl rumbled in Thor’s chest. He moved toward the children, using his size and reputation to his advantage. As they hurried away he stood guard, making sure they were well and truly gone.

When silence filled the woods once more he strode back to where he left the boy. He lifted his scrap wood in one arm and looked around for him. 

“It’s safe.”

Thor’s deep voice seemed almost gentle as he glanced toward the deeper forest.

Loki cautiously peered around the tree. He crept out, struck by Odinson’s tone, and slowly walked a little closer. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly. “I could get you into trouble.” 

“You won’t.”

He knelt down and offered the child his arm.

“You’re hurt. Come with me.”

He tensed, staring at his arm for a moment, then at his face. “...You’re not going to eat me, are you?” He asked, just to be safe.

“Eat you? Is that what they say about me?” Thor scoffed. “No. I’m not going to eat you.”

“They all say different things,” Loki replied with a shrug. “Some say you eat children, some say you just eat people, some say you aren’t real. They’re stupid, though, I’ve seen you in town.” He took his arm, gingerly.

Thor lifted the child easily and cradled him against his chest. He headed deeper into the woods, toward his cabin.

“Have you? At the market?”

He tensed once again at the contact, staring up at him as they walked. “Yes. I stole a fox pelt from your cart last harvest. I had to keep warm.” He wasn’t sorry, and he wouldn’t pretend even to this man who could easily snap him in half.

“If you need something from me, you should ask. I would have given it to you.”

“No one else does,” he said. “I have to take what I need. But I’ll ask next time. If you catch me,” he smirked, joking with him. 

“I’ll be watching,” Thor replied. His chest rumbled as he spoke, vibrating against Loki’s slight frame. He stepped out of the trees and into the clearing where his cabin sat. Carefully, shifting Loki with his hip, he untied the rope holding the door closed and entered the warm room. 

He set Loki down in a chair and carried his wood to the hearth. He’d have to cut the branches later, but they rested well enough in the basket beside it. 

“I need to tend to your wound.”

Loki sighed when the warm air hit him, relaxing more in Odinson’s arms as soon as it reached him. It was nice, being near a fire and indoors without worrying about being found out. He hugged himself when he was put down, glancing around the cabin. 

“I thought you lived in a cave,” he said, peering into a stein on the table. “The stories say you live in a cave.”

He stilled when he spoke, just looking up at him now.

“They’re wrong, then.” 

Thor retrieved a few leaves from the pouch at his side. He tore them up in his palm and spat in it. Working the herbs with the wetness, he made a paste. He brushed Loki’s hair aside and smeared it on the cut above his eye. For hands so large and rough, the touch was surprisingly gentle.

“Are you hungry?”

He winced, waiting for pain and finding none. He watched him with intense, aged eyes that had no business looking as wizened as they were. 

He chased the soft touch before he realized himself, sitting back and swallowing roughly. 

At the mere mention of food, his stomach audibly growled. He blushed. "Um, yes. I don't have any coin, though."

“Money’s no good here. I’m hungry, I’m going to cook. If you want to eat, just stay.”

Thor rose and started gathering his cooking tools. Copper pot, several hooks, a kettle, and a pan. As he set them up he gave the child instructions.

“There’s a cellar entrance around back. Bring me a few steaks and three potatoes.”

Loki glanced toward the door, suspicious, confused, but what did he have to lose other than a free meal? He nodded and went outside, finding the cellar at the back of the house. He lifted the heavy doors and went down into the damp place, retrieving what Odinson asked for. 

He came back, setting the food beside him wordlessly, shy. 

“Good boy. You got a name?” 

He took the cuts and removed a small case from his pouch. Inside say several vials, each with a different colored herb ground up inside. He uncorked a few and seasoned the steaks.

He brightened at the praise. "I'm Loki," he said, leaning up on his toes to see what he was doing. "The priest named me."

He cocked his head. "Do you have a name other than Odinson? Or is that even your name?"

“My name is Thor.” 

“Thor,” he repeated.

The boy had no family, then. No wonder the poor thing needed to steal to get by. Thor put a bit of butter in his pan and started to cook the meat. He poured a small cup of water into the copper pot and moved it to the fire to heat. 

“Have you always been on your own?”

His stomach growled again when he smelled the food cooking, and he fought not to salivate. 

"Yes," he nodded. "They say I came out of a blizzard. They think I'm a witch or a demon or something, but can't prove it."

“A witch? Simply because you were abandoned?”

Thor drew a small knife from a sheath on his boot and began to peel and slice the potatoes. He could recall a blizzard, bad enough he’d been snowed in several years prior. Was that when Loki’d been found?

"I should've died. Nothing made it through that storm and I walked out of it. Didn't even have shoes, " he said softly. "Father Ebony says I'm cursed, that's why no one wants me."

His tone wasn't sad, but matter-of-fact, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. 

“What a sick thing to say to a child. The church cannot even be expected to care for an orphan… how typical.”

He looked up at him, then back at the food as it cooked. "Is it?" He asked, brow pinched. "Suppose I never noticed. Just how it's been."

The smell of steak filled the cabin as Thor pulled the pan toward himself. He flipped the meat and settled it back on his cooking stand. With the potatoes ready he tossed them into the pot of boiling water.

“You’re a survivor.”

He leaned back against a nearby chair, staring up at him again. "Maybe. I just do what I need to stay alive. It'll be easier now that spring is coming. Well, eventually."

“Where do you stay? Does the church invite you in out of the cold?”

"Only if I beg. But I don't like sleeping in the pews. The wood's hard."

Thor frowned. The local priest wouldn’t even put Loki up in a bed? Not even in the sick house? It wasn’t fair - all the money the church drew in from tithes and it wouldn’t even care for children?

“Well. You can sleep here if you’d like. In the chair.” 

He nodded to a chair large enough for his own size. To Loki, it would nearly be a bed. A frame made of woven cord and sticks, atop which rested a handmade cushion vaguely circular in shape, it was well-worn but inviting.

He blinked at him. "You'd let me do that?" He asked, looking over at the chair with a quiet longing. "I would like that very much, sir."

Thor pulled the dishes off the fire and carried them to the table. He rested them on a raised stone slab and started to serve the meal. Two steaks for each of them with soft boiled potatoes and clean water from the pond.

He hurried off to the table, pulling himself up on his knees so he could see, fighting not to tear into the food like an animal. 

“Hmn. You don’t need to worry about manners here,” Thor said as he passed him his plate. “Gods know I don’t.”

He didn't need to be told twice. He practically pounced on his plate, eating like something starved, and he was. 

Thor ate with his hands, albeit much slower than Loki. He took his time - though he didn’t bother to clean his face or hands as he worked through the meal. 

Loki slowed eventually, looking at Thor a moment. "You don't have company much, do you?"

Juice ran down into his messy beard as he looked up from his plate. 

“Never.”

He giggled. "It shows," Loki nodded, teasing him a little. He took another bite, thinking before he spoke again. 

"Don't you get lonely?"

“I… I do. But it’s better this way. The clergy doesn’t bother me, for one. Most of the hunting is mine for the taking.”

He frowned, nodding a little. "I see. A lot of people are scared of the woods. Do you scare people who come through?" He asked. 

Thor smiled at Loki. “Sometimes. You saw today I don’t even have to speak. People see me, and… well. The rumors do the rest. They have for many years. I’m not all that scares them though. These woods are old. There’s a weight here, the crushing power of time. I imagine those not used to it find it terrifying.”

"But you're not scared? Even by yourself?"

“Not scared. But as you said… lonely. When the storms howl. When the blizzards come. In the heat.”

"Why not make a friend? Or move closer to the village?" He asked, his plate clean. 

“I like my privacy. This… this is private. As for friends I never expected anyone from the village to care enough to waste my time on them.”

He shrugged. "That's fair." He delicately wiped his mouth on the hem of his shirt. "Thank you for the food, sir."

“Just Thor. Would you like a bath?”

He perked up, nodding quickly. "Oh, yes! I'd like that very much! Um, Thor."

Thor gathered their plates and set them in the sink. He motioned for Loki to follow him. Near the back of the cabin was a room with a metal tub. “I’ll get it ready. Go pick out clean clothes of mine to wear. A tunic at least.”

He nodded, astounded at his luck. He quickly got off the chair and went to run to the nearest bedroom to get new clothes, and paused at the door, turning to face him. "...Why are you being so kind to me?"

“Because the villagers treat you the way they treat me.”


	2. Warm Baths, Dark Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki finally gets a hot bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you enjoy this chapter! There’s lots of pining!

Loki hurried into the next room, searching for where clothes might be, as well as taking in the large bedroom. The bed was so big he couldn’t get up there without effort, covered in heavy furs and handmade blankets that were well worn. The furniture appeared to be made by Thor’s hands as well. In his rush, however, he didn’t take much in beyond those basics.

A small chest nestled in the corner appeared to be his best bet in finding what he was looking for. He dug through it, picking up a green tunic he couldn't even see through. 

He went back to the washroom. "Is this one okay?" He asked, holding it aloft. 

“It’s perfect. Suits your eyes.”

Thor brought the water to a boil and sprinkled in a few dried herbs. It smelled nice, inviting. Steam filled the little room as Thor stalled the fire down to coals.

“Here you are. There’s soap there - I make it myself.”

"Thank you," he said graciously, undressing without ceremony or any warning. Loki’s young, alabaster body bore scars and healing bruises, his frame a bit too thin for any child to be. 

With some effort, he climbed into the basin, sighing happily once he was fully submerged in the water. The warmth crept into his cold bones, soothing him immediately. 

Thor stared, unable to help himself. He hadn’t seen another person this close in so long, let alone the bare skin of another man. Or… a boy. Despite his wounds and scars, Loki held an ethereal sort of beauty. 

Maybe the boy was right. Maybe he needed to rejoin the town. His loneliness was getting the better of him.

Oblivious, wholly consumed by the wonderful warmth and scents of the bath, Loki didn’t notice the piercing gaze Thor was giving him. He ducked under the water to wet his hair, coming back up with drops clinging to his lashes. "This is wonderful," he cooed. 

Shaking the thoughts away to refocus, Thor cleared his throat and glanced down at the floor. 

“Would you like some privacy?”

Loki shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me. And it's your house, I can't tell you what to do."

“I’ll… I will stay, then, if you don’t mind,” Thor replied.

"I don't," he assured, tipping his head back and relaxing. 

“I take it you don’t get baths very often?”

"Mm, not hot ones," he smiled. 

“When you’re here, then you can have as many as you like - as long as you let me stay and keep an eye on the coals. Wouldn’t want you getting burned, now would we?”

“That’s so generous of you. Thank you,” the child beamed. "And I don’t mind at all if you stay. Half the time I bathe outside; I'm not shy."

“I can see that,” Thor said softly. He let his eyes wander along the pale flesh visible above the water. Loki’s wet black hair trailed down his shoulders, a stark contrast to his fair skin. Breathtaking, Thor thought, forcing himself to look away again. It was impossible to stop admiring Loki.

This time, in the stillness, Loki did feel eyes on him. When it didn’t stop, he peeked at him with one eye, "Are you looking for the devil's mark?" Loki asked. 

“No. You’re… I haven’t been this close to another person in awhile. I’m just getting used to it. You need to eat more, you should stay awhile.”

"I would love to, but I shouldn't. Father Ebony will be looking for me, and I don't want to cause you any trouble. But I'll come back," he promised. "And soon. Those children chase after me all the time."

Of course. Of course he wouldn’t stay. 

“Alright. That’s… not a good thing, though. The way they torment you.”

He looked at him, reaching for the soap to begin washing himself. "But I'm wicked. Everyone says so. Father Ebony says I'm lucky to be allowed to live among them. And I must be. They didn't kill me, I should be grateful."

“You aren’t wicked,” Thor said firmly. “You’re a child trying to survive. Next time I’m in town I’ll have words with this Father Ebony.” As Loki stretched, he found himself watching the way the boy’s muscles shifted beneath his skin. 

"I wouldn't. He's...unkind. He's ruined people before, and he could do it to anyone. He runs the village. Whole church does," he explained. "I don't want you to draw any wrath because of me. I'm not worth it."

“Let me worry about that, Loki. It isn’t as if I have a reputation worth saving among the townsfolk. And you… you are worth trouble. I can see that.”

Loki giggled, his skin lathered and dripping. "You're funny." 

He stood so he could scrub the rest of his body and did so, still chortling at Thor’s words.

He knew better, but he couldn’t help himself. Thor watched as the soap ran down Loki’s lithe little body. He longed to reach out, to touch him, to clean him with his large, rough hands…

“Funny? How?”

Loki peered over his shoulder at him. "I'm just a wretch. Nothing about me matters. If I disappeared… Well I'm sure a lot of people would be happy."

“Not me. Not now that we’ve met. You’re intelligent. Quick. Friendly, to me. I would miss you.”

He smiled gently, sitting back down in the water. "Well thank you. I'd miss you too."

“That’s sweet of you to say.”

He shrugged, ducking under the water to re-wet his hair and began working soap into it as well. 

“I’ll get you a cloth to dry with.” 

Thor rose to his feet and padded out of the room. A few minutes later he returned, setting a thick scrap of linen by the tub.

Curiously, he reached out and touched the cloth, marveling at it. "Oh, this is lovely,” he cooed softly. “Thank you.” He turned his eyes and smile up to Thor. 

“You’re welcome. Stay in as long as you like, I’ve got a few things to get done around the property.”

He nodded. "I won't leave," he assured, standing again. He stepped out and began to dry off. 

As much as he yearned to stay and watch, Thor pulled himself away. There was always work to be done, and today was no different. It was easy to busy himself with cleaning the dishes, or cutting wood.

Loki dried off, wandering into the hall and looking around. He peered into the rooms, just looking to see if there was anything of interest. 

The bedroom was dominated by a large bed covered with furs and hand-stitched pillows. The chest of clothes Loki examines earlier still sat open. A few rough wood tables flanked the bed, cluttered with tools and half-whittled pieces.

He went up to the bed, daring to touch the furs with a careful hand. They were soft, softer than they looked, even, and he lingered there a moment before remembering what was waiting for him in the front room. 

The chair was waiting for him, large and inviting, looking so well-worn and comforting the longing he felt overwhelmed him. With the same effort he had to use with every massive piece of furniture in this house, he climbed into it and curled against the plush cushion. He sighed gently, eyes heavy and already closing. 

Thor returned to the house as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Soft snores caught his attention. Little Loki lay in the chair, relaxed, peaceful. His heart softened at the sight. He grabbed a wool blanket and carefully draped it over the boy’s slight frame.

He cooed when the blanket settled over him, nuzzling into it. He sighed dreamily, curled in a little ball and snoring gently. 

“Sweet thing,” Thor said softly. He doused the fire and left Loki where he lay, comfortable and warm. 

Once in his own room he stripped naked and climbed into bed. It had been quite some time since he’d had such an eventful day. A visitor. A child, nonetheless, one in need of care. Regardless of what Loki said Thor planned to stop by the church during the next market. His eyes closed, anger coiled in his heart. They’d take care of him. He’d make sure of that. 

He slept peacefully for most of the night, the warmth of this place enough to keep him under, but not enough to keep the nightmares away. 

They were always the same. 

Suffocating, constant, impenetrable darkness closed around him. Then the whispers would begin. The dark would move, alive, and suddenly the landscape would be streaked with red eyes that cut through the dark like a blade. 

Then the cold, deep and bone chilling. He would cry, unable to escape it or the gaze of the eyes. The laughter began then, and he ran. Even though he knew he could not escape. He ran until his lungs burned, until the cold was in him so deep he thought he might be frozen solid. He fell to his knees, screaming, and his scream would tear through the dark, rip it down like a curtain, and when he could see the night sky at last, a blade would pierce him from behind-- 

A rough gasp tore from his throat as he sat up, panting and sweating, tears on his face. The room he was in wasn’t familiar, and his fear spiked once more as he fought back panic. Then he looked down at the chair he was nestled in, and the blanket that had been placed over him. 

The cabin, with Thor, the man who dwelled here who wasn’t hardly the beast the stories made him out to be. He was soft and clean and safe. But the darkness in such a new place brought shadows taking on sinister forms that closed in on him. The horrifying thoughts tickled the back of his mind and his imagination, making his isolation here unbearable.

Slipping off the chair, blanket around his shoulders, Loki hurried quietly down the hall and into Thor’s bedroom, where the man was sleeping much more soundly than he had been. 

He quietly approached the bed, not wanting to wake him with noise and climbed up, curling at the bottom and lying down, sniffling. 

Thor rolled onto his back. He stretched, legs brushing against Loki’s soft skin. When he finally settled he worked his legs around Loki’s curled form as if making room for a cat. 

Loki held his breath until he stilled, then rested his head on his calf like a makeshift pillow. The sound of Thor’s steady breathing and the safety he felt in his presence soothed any and all fears lingering in him. He closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep again. He slept peacefully the rest of the night, the nightmares chased away. 

The warm light of the morning sun woke Thor, the golden rays shining bright against his closed eyes. He grumbled and rubbed the sleep from his lids. As he shifted, he felt something small by his feet.

“Hm?”

Loki moved his head to the mattress when he stirred, mumbling a little and turning over. He nuzzled against the furs and settled into sleep again. 

Thor scooped him up and set him down beside him. He tucked a pillow under his head and wrapped him in the blankets still warm from his body. Having someone beside him stirred something painful in his heart. A longing he’d never felt. Why did it matter? Why did it make him feel so… good?

"Mm?" He grumbled, peeking through heavy lids and thick lashes, snuggled up beside him. 

_ Oh.  _ Thor’s breath caught in his chest as Loki pressed close. Slowly, softly, he pulled the child into his arms. Such a tiny little thing, underfed and underloved. Stubborn, though. Independent. Like him. 

He cooed again, resting his head against his chest, settling into sleep again and snoring gently. 

How could Thor let him go? He stroked his fingers through Loki’s hair, watching the way his breath stirred the hair on his chest. The townsfolk were wrong about him. This boy was an innocent. 

He nuzzled his skin, comfortable and warm, listening to the gentle thrum of Thor's heart. 

It took some time before he woke, groggy and confused for a moment before he turned his head, blinking up at him. "Oh. Oh, I-I'm sorry," he blurted, realizing what he’d done and immediately flushed a deep red. “I, um, I’m so sorry, I--” 

“Don’t be. How did you sleep?” Thor’s voice rumbled in his chest, vibrating against Loki’s cheek.

"Good. Um. I had a nightmare and...and I was afraid. So I came in here." He rubbed his eyes. "You're not angry?"

“No. Why would I be mad?”

"I came into your room," he said. "And I didn't ask if I could. And I got into your bed. Most people would get mad if I did that," he explained. 

“I…” Thor reached down and tucked a strand of Loki’s hair behind his ear. Words weren’t something he held any confidence in, nor any aptitude for. “I enjoyed waking up to find you close. It was nice.”

He smiled sleepily. "Well, I'm glad, then. Thank you."

“Are you hungry? I could make breakfast.”

He blinked, surprised he was eating again so soon. "Yes, yes, I'd like that." 

Thor released him and tucked him into the furs. He stood, paying his nudity no mind, and stretched. His skin was covered in scars, some slender, some ragged, some that looked more like bites.

Loki stared, unable to help it. Thor was much different than anyone else he’d ever seen. His size was daunting, frail and tiny as he was in comparison, the scars weaving a tale of strength, pain and triumph. He was miraculous to behold, and absolutely beautiful. 

“Do you fight a lot?” He asked, cheeks pink.

“I used to,” Thor replied. “For a while. There’s good coin in it - and not everything I need can be found in these woods. It’s been a long time.”

“Like what?” He asked, head cocked.

“Ale. Cookware. Tools. Companionship.”

“Ah,” he nodded, understanding. “So, people paid you to fight things?” He asked, getting out of bed and following him into the next room with the blanket around him. 

“Other people mostly. There are plenty of fighting pits in the larger cities.”

“Huh,” he said, toddling along. “People pay money for strange things.” 

“They play wagers on the fighters,” Thor attempted to explain as he gathered the pan. “And if their fighter wins, they give them a portion of their winnings. If they lose, they get nothing.” 

Thor took the pan to the fire and set it on the stand to heat. He took some butter and eggs from the pantry and crouched down to cook.

“It’s still strange. But I guess it’s boring being an adult,” he shrugged, sitting in the large chair he’d slept in the night before. “Were you good at it?”

“Yeah. I was.” 

“And that’s what all your scars are from? Cause it looks like you got bit by something. A couple times,” he explained, leaning back against the chair.

“No. Those are from here. Bears, wolves, and other animals. Good meat, good furs, their bones are useful, but they can be dangerous.” As he cooked their eggs Thor found himself relaxed and calmed by Loki’s presence. 

“You’ve fought  _ bears? _ ” He asked, sitting up on his knees. “And wolves?! That’s amazing!” 

“Really? It’s fairly common.”

Loki cocked his brow. “You know a lot of people that regularly fight bears in hand-to-hand combat, then?” 

“Well… no,” Thor admitted. “Just me.”

“Then what you call common is a bit silly, Thor,” he grinned, not judging him or making fun, just talking with an endearing expression.

“I just meant… they’re common in the woods. I don’t actively hunt them, but when they come to close I have no choice. I make sure not to waste any part of them - especially the bears. They’re magnificent beasts.”

He nodded, understanding. “I see. You’re very different, Thor.”

“Different how?”

“You’re not like anyone else I know. You’re… You’re just different. And I like it. I think I’m different too.” 

Thor smiled at him. “Oh? I am different, I suppose… different from the townsfolk at the very least. And you’re special.”

He chuckled. 'I'm special?"

“Yes. You’re the only villager I like.”

“I am? Well, you’re the only one I like too,” he beamed, sitting up proudly. He might even have a friend now.

The smell of eggs filled the room. Thor took the pan off the fire and carried it to the table. He plated their food and poured them each a cup of water.

Loki hurried to the table, pulling himself up as he did the night before, and hastily began to eat. “Mmn, thank you, Thor,” he said between large bites.

“You’re very welcome, Loki.” 

He continued to eat, the warmth and fullness of his belly something foreign and strange to him, but good. He couldn’t remember the last time he had this much to eat two meals in a row. He took a deep gulp of water, cooing.

Thor ate at a much slower pace, watching to make sure Loki didn’t hurt himself. 

“Is it good?”

He nodded quickly. “Very good! Thank you very, very much for feeding me,” he smiled. 

“You don’t need to thank me. You look like you haven’t eaten a good meal in a long time.”

He shook his head. “Not since Yule, and even then it was cold,” he explained, swallowing another bite. “And I should thank you. You’re sharing your food with me.”

Thor frowned. That was too long. He wished there was more he could for Loki, but other than taking him in…

“You know where I am now. When you get hungry, come to me. I’ll make sure you’re fed and warm.”

“You’re sure?” He asked, looking surprised. “I, I’ll find a way to pay you back for your kindness.” 

“No, you don’t need to pay me back. Just… keep me company sometimes.” 

Loki nodded, beaming. “I can do that,” he promised.

“That means a lot to me,” Thor said gently. ‘Thank you.”

He finished his breakfast and pushed the plate away, finishing his cup of water as well. “I, um, I should get back to the village before a mob comes to beat down your door to see if you ate me,” he chuckled, teasing. “But I’ll see you soon! Market’s in a few days, right?”

“Yes, it is. I’ll see you then, Loki. Be safe.”

Thor hated the thought of Loki being alone, especially after seeing the way the other children treated him. Still, he had survived this long. He knew how to take care of himself. 

“You can keep that tunic.”

“Really? Thank you,” he grinned, gathering his other clothes and putting them on beneath the large, warm tunic to keep himself dry and warm in the chilled air outside.

He rushed up to him and hugged him around the waist. “I’ll see you at market,” he swore. “I won’t forget you, Thor. And I promise to make sure everyone stays scared of you.” He winked at him, smiling..

Thor hugged him back, gently stroking his soft hair. “Thank you, Loki. I won’t forget you either.” 

Just a wink, nothing more, but Thor felt something dark and hungry in his blood stir. If anyone laid a hand on Loki, he’d tear them apart with his bare hands. 

Loki went out the door, giving Thor one more dazzling smile before he left entirely. He went happily through the woods, and as he did, a raven followed him from tree to tree. It cawed and Loki looked up, waved at it as though it were a friend and continued on. 

A black rabbit soon followed, as if drawn by the child’s presence, a chill settling over the woods when Loki departed. It seemed the forest itself didn’t want him to leave either.


	3. Blasphemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in town, Loki is subjected to the whims of the clergy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **!!!PLEASE HEED THE UPDATED WARNINGS!!!**
> 
> We warned in the first chapter that this story would go down some dark paths and this is the start. We promise, there is a happy ending, but we have to brave the turbulent waters to get there <3

The cabin itself seemed colder without Loki. Thor cleaned the dishes and listened to the rising wind. Leaves crashed together, rattling and singing a mournful tune in the wake of his absence. He’d be back, Thor was certain. He’d spend every day waiting eagerly.

It was easy to find work to occupy his mind - the shed needed mending, he needed to fish to refill his stores, there were beasts to hunt in preparation for the market… Lonely work, but Thor looked forward to the distractions.

Loki entered the village without anyone noticing. The villagers ignored him more often than not, and he hoped to reach the crate behind the bakery that he called home before he ran into anyone that might wish him harm, like the boys from the day before, or Father Ebony. 

He wove through the legs of the townspeople, nicking a few coins off their belts as he went. A baby wept the moment he passed it, a dog dragged its owner and barked viciously at him for simply coming too close and above, the raven from the woods continued to follow him from roof to roof. 

He was nearly there, making it past the tailor’s and the cobbler’s respectively, and had nearly made it to the loose bar in the gate that would allow him into the alleyway of his “home” when cold, bony fingers and sharp nails dug into the flesh of his arm and yanked him back. 

“Damn,” he cursed, glaring up at Father Ebony’s smug face.

“There you are! You weren’t at services yesterday. The devil will take you if you miss another mass.” 

Father Ebony’s lithe frame towered over him. Thinning gray hair spilled down to his shoulders, and his pale skin was mottled with rough patches, the mark of some pox Loki had no name for. He grinned down at the boy, the expression cold and dark.

He smirked, feeling a tick of anger flare in his belly. “I thought the devil already took me, Father?” He said, blinking innocently. “Isn’t that why I’m not allowed past the cathedral? Oh, unless the cellar needs cleaning, then I am.”

Father Ebony slapped him with his free hand. His coarse skin cracked against Loki’s smooth cheek. 

“Watch that wicked tongue, child, or you’ll be licking the stones clean. Come. There’s work for you.”

The slap stung, but the satisfaction of it made his smirk deepen. He tugged his arm, trying to break away from him. “I didn’t do anything wrong! I missed mass because those boys were trying to string me up again! I had to hide in the woods all night. It isn’t my fault, let me go!”

“No. You are coming with me. The robes need laundered and the pews need polished. And, of course, you’re needed for your  _ other  _ duties. The other priests will not wait. Your excuses matter not.”

He twisted and fought in his grasp. “No! No, I won’t, to hell with you! Get off of me, let go! Get another slave, I’m through with you!” 

“You don’t get to make that decision.”

Father Ebony lifted him easily and began to carry him toward the church. As little as Loki was it took no effort at all, even for someone as frail as him. 

He thrashed and fought, looking around for help, for anyone that might be willing to offer an ounce of kindness-- 

But the street had emptied. Not a soul to be found and if there were, they wouldn’t help. Not him. He began to cry, both in helplessness and anger. The raven that had been following him cawed again, as if to offer encouragement of some kind. 

The door of the church closed, concealing him in Ebony’s world where he was God and Loki was nothing more than an ant, or dirt. More often than not he was used as a doll, made to do anything he wanted and he could do nothing to stop it. 

His fate, for a time at least, was sealed.

“Before your chores, child, you need to perform your physical ablutions.” 

Ebony began to undress on the altar. He draped his robes over the lectern, slipping off his worn leather shoes and setting them on the stone floor. The undershirt followed, as well as his pants. When he stood naked before the boy he reached out, caressing Loki’s hair. 

“My, my. You’ve had a bath…”

He stood at the base of the steps leading to the altar, glaring up at him, at the so-called God depicted behind him that allowed this, that offered no mercy or relief to the damned likes of him. 

Once the priest began to undress he looked away, scowling at the floor. Fear and rage flooded his body, hands clenched in tight fists at his sides. Revulsion clogged his throat, tears welling in his eyes again. 

He jerked away when he touched him, shuddering, but made no move to run or even take a step back. “What about it?” He spat.

“I prefer you dirty. You look too pure like this… too pleasing.”

Father Ebony lifted a cup from beneath the lectern. He turned it over Loki’s head, dousing him in blessed wine. 

“On your knees, little pet.”

He shut his eyes and ducked his head, letting his tears flow with the wine so he wouldn’t see it. Why did he leave the cabin? It was so nice there… 

Ebony’s voice reminded him why. This relentless, horrid creature that called himself a man of god would burn everything in Thor’s life with a smile on his face and murder him for good measure just because he dared cross him. Loki didn’t want that. He didn’t want anyone hurt for his sake. 

He swallowed, glaring up at him with the red drops still gliding down his face. “No.”

“No? What has gotten into you? A demon, perhaps? Did those cursed woods sink its roots into you, Loki?”

Father Ebony placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him, hard, to his knees. There was something gleeful in his dark eyes.

“Don’t make me flog you.”

The hard stone cracked against his knees and he grunted, looking away again. The last flogging he took nearly killed him, and it took months for him to recover from it, slowly and painfully in the dark, hot summer he spent bawling for relief or death. 

Keeping his eyes away from his face, Loki opened his mouth.

“Ah! You  _ do  _ remember your place! Good boy, Loki, good boy…”

Father Ebony cupped his cock and guided it into Loki’s waiting mouth. Hot, soft, as he took his length he let out a low moan. His seed would purge the wickedness from the little witch. He would fill him to bursting with it if that was what it took to cleanse him.

He opened his throat, gagging and choking when it was too much. He fought not to make a sound, to keep his eyes shut and any tears locked away. Maybe he was wicked. Maybe that’s why he hated this so much, why he loathed the priest and his church more than anything. 

He wished he were bigger, stronger, able to fight this man and break him into pieces. Like Thor. Thor could rip him apart in one fell swoop if he so chose to, and Loki could only hope to be half as strong when he was older. 

For now he endured, his hands clenched so tight he made his palms bleed, keeping his throat open to wait this out and hope it was over soon.

Father Ebony gripped his wet hair and pulled him close, fucking his tight little throat with rough abandon. Whatever awaited him in heaven, he hoped it felt half as good as Loki choking on his cock.

“Mmn, that’s it, just endure. Just take my cock like a good boy, show me you want salvation. Show me how far you’re willing to go to be saved…”

He gagged, coughing around his cock as he tried to accommodate it in his mouth and throat. He fought to breathe, drool on his chin, hot tears working down his face without his consent. 

He punched his own thigh, shuddering openly.

“Oh my God, little Loki is heartily sorry for having offended You. He detests all his sins because of your just punishments, but - ah, fuck - most of all, b-because they offend you, My God, who are all good and worthy of all his love. He firmly resolves, with the help of Your grace, to sin no more… are you ready, Loki? For your salvation? Mmn, and, and to avoid the near occasions of sin.

“Here - swallow it, swallow my seed and be cleansed! Ah, Amen!”

Father Ebony came hard, filling Loki’s throat with thick, sticky seed.

The prayer echoed in his head like something distant, something too far away to really hear past this horrific violation and the thundering of blood in his ears. It was a haunting, awful thing, and in that moment he did hate God, hated this sacrament and hated the priest with all that he had. He wished he were a demon, a devil, something that could make this stop. 

But he wasn’t. He was just a child. A small, weak child drenched in wine with a holy man’s cock down his throat. He was nothing. 

He gagged again when come flooded over his mouth, pushing the priest away as he tried to escape it, but he was held firm. He coughed and swallowed, some of his foul release in his nose from his struggle that he had to swallow too. 

He fell to the floor, coughing loudly, fighting for air. 

“Good boy, what a good job you did. You’ll need to take your penance with Father Cull and Father Corvus next.”

Ebony patted his head idly. 

“One is in the confessionals, the other cooking in the rectory.”

Miserably, he got up, staggering away to the next room. If he ran it would only be worse the next time he got his hands on him. He stopped at the washroom on the way to the confessionals, vomiting into the basin with a painful force. He sobbed, lamenting both the peace he’d briefly found and the breakfast he’d just wasted. 

He whispered an apology to Thor he’d never hear and got up, washing the wine out of his hair as best he could before he continued on to the horrific duties he had to perform. Father Cull liked him clean. 

Loki wasn’t sure how Father Cull could fit in the booth. A massive man of dour composition, he seemed as if he could shatter the oak by flexing. Still, he managed, and it was within one such confessional he sat praying.

He could hear Cull muttering on the other side of the door and he slowly, regretfully, knocked lightly on the door, already frightened. Cull’s sheer size was enough to make him cower, and knowing what he was capable of made it all that much worse. He was already shaking, afraid of how much he would have to endure from him. 

“Loki. Enter the other door. It’s empty.”

He hated that he knew it was him. He swallowed and did as he was asked, getting into the adjacent little room and shutting the door firmly behind him. 

“Undress and speak your sins to me, child.”

Father Cull’s voice was deep and coarse, almost vibrating the wood of the confessional.

“I missed mass yesterday,” he said quietly, removing his pants, hoping that would be enough. It was already so cold in here.

One large hand slid the lower window open. Usually to hold the hand of someone grieving, or to pass a rosary or bible, it was just the right height to reach Loki’s pert little ass.

“Bend over. Hands against the wall, ass to me. You’ve been very naughty, Loki.”

He didn’t feel as though he had, though next time this happened he’d be sure there was a damn good reason for it. Missing something like mass was just an excuse Ebony used because he wanted a reason to come. Cull and Corvus were simply doing the same.

He turned, placing his hands against the wall as instructed, the tunic Thor had given him resting on the bench as well both so Cull could reach him and so it didn’t get ruined. He swallowed, shutting his eyes, waiting for the large man’s touch.

Loki heard the distinct sound of a cork being drawn. The priests and nuns each carried a vial of holy oil for anointing the sick and enfeebled, and he could smell it long before a slick finger pressed against his cunt.

“Mmn… I’ll be the first to have you today. How wonderful.”

He worked him open, his thick digit sliding past his muscle.

The smell of the oil paralyzed him, a sickness settling into his stomach that only came with that smell. He closed his eyes and whimpered, wishing he were anywhere else. 

When his finger breached him he choked on his breath, back arching. He shook his head, begging silently to make this stop. 

“Such pretty noises… I do hope you cry. Your tears show your penance, your dedication to God and his servants. Don’t you want to show god your devotion Loki?”

He was fighting not to sob already, whimpering as he continued moving inside of him. 

He didn't want to show God anything, and didn't care what the faceless thing in the sky thought of him. He just wanted this to be over. And the easiest way to do so was to agree. 

"Yes," he trembled, eyes wet. "Yes, I do."

“Good.”

Cull reached his nerves and rubbed them roughly. A second finger pressed against his hole, just teasing while he pleased him.

Loki let out a sob, his body responding against his will. His legs trembled, aching as he tried to force another digit into him. He didn't like it, none of it, despite how he responded to the sick pleasure he forced from him. 

“Oh, yes… the Lord will bless your tears, little Loki. He will smite the wickedness inside you, he will give you clarity of mind and purity of heart - so long as you submit to me.”

Father Cull pressed his second finger last Loki’s muscle, stretching him wider.

“Your body always returns to this tightness. It’s almost as if you want it to hurt.”

He shook his head, hot tears streaking his face. "I-I don't want it to hurt. I don't want it to, Father," he whimpered, trying to relax, to breathe and make this bearable. 

“Alright, child. Just bear with this, then, until you’re loose enough to take me.”

He bowed his head, crying audibly now and waiting. 

The priest fucked him with his hand, whispering quiet praises through the opening of the confessional.

Loki's little legs shook and buckled, his whole body trembling, walls flexing around his fingers. 

“Are you ready for me?”

"Yes," he sniffled. Just get it over with, get through it and it'll be over quicker.

Father Cull slicked his cock with the blessed oil and slowly pressed his massive length into him.

“Ah… that feels… better than Heaven…”

"A-ah-- Please, please not all of it, I can't take it," he begged. L

“Yes you can, Loki. With time. And practice. I’ll train you well, beneath the watchful eye of God.”

Loki shook his head, again, crying softly. He braced himself as best he could, sobbing harder.

Cull stopped when he met resistance. “There you go… just relax…”

He tried to, shutting his eyes, distancing himself from what was happening to him. He accepted it, going somewhere far away from himself. His body relaxed.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee,” Cull purred, thrusting into Loki’s hot cunt. “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for this wicked little sinner, now and at the hour of his death.”

He ignored the words, lost in a vacuum of pure nothingness that was comforting, that helped. He still cried, but silently now, staring up at the ceiling of the confessional, just waiting. No matter how many times they'd done this, he was still evil. So what was the point in trying anymore? 

Maybe their holiness was a lie. Of course it was. Lies for their own gain, lies to make him do what they wanted. If he was damned and they were blessed, he'd rather be in Hell than with them. 

“Say ‘Amen’, Loki.”

"Amen," he whispered. 

“Good boy. Get ready for your salvation, for your burden…”

He braced himself again, too full, too riddled with the mix of pain and pleasure, too warm. The stink of the wine that had been poured over him made him nauseous, and if he wasn't so suffocated by the heat of this box and the pressure of the massive thrusts behind him he may have vomited again. 

Father Cull’s thick cock pulsed inside him, filling his tiny little ass with hot come. He let out a guttural moan, forcing himself a little deeper, lost in the pleasure.

"Ah! S-stop! Stop it hurts, it hurts, ow…" He sobbed, twisting away from him. 

The priest pulled out, his come spattering tbe wood. 

“Good… good, Loki. God will smile upon you this day. Get cleaned up and go see Father Corvus.”

He hiccuped, curling into himself on the floor for a moment to gather his thoughts and himself. This morning had been so good… 

He staggered out of the confessional clutching his tunic and his pants, shaking as he stumbled into the same washroom to clean up again. Once more he thought about running, slipping out a window and running back to his home that even Ebony hadn’t found yet, and hide for as long as he could stand it. 

But the punishment he would receive would be too much to bear. A flogging that might kill him in this cold. 

He went back out, hiding his tunic beneath a loose cushion in a bench against the wall, his pants back on his hips, and went to the kitchens, entering with his head bowed and his hands clasped in front of him. His face was red and blotchy from crying, eyes swollen and miserable.

Father Corvus was a willowy man, tall and thin as a rail with piercing brown eyes that looked gold in the light of the day. He stood by the fire and stirred a pot of stew. It smelled delicious. Loki’s stomach gave a rumbling growl as soon as he stepped into the kitchen.

He knew better than to ask for a single bite before he'd done his duty, and he waited for Corvus to acknowledge him before speaking. Seen and not heard, that's how he liked his meat. 

“Is that you, Loki?” His voice seemed to fill the room despite how soft-spoken he was.

"Yes," he said quietly, stepping up behind him. 

“Wondrous. I have need of your skills. Come, get on your knees.”

He obeyed, already sore from everything else he'd endured. He looked up at him, swallowing roughly. 

Father Corvus lifted his robe and leaned against the stone. 

“Use your wicked tongue, boy. Eat me.”

He hesitated, his stomach twisting violently. "S-sir?" He stammered, confused, and wishing with all he had he'd heard him wrong.

“Surely you remember Father Ebony’s tongue snaking inside you, sucking at your muscle, while you writhed and begged him to stop.”

Corvus’ cock stiffened as he spoke, hanging between his thighs as if waiting for Loki’s touch.

“Use your tongue on my ass, child.”

Loki shuddered at the memory, his throat tightening as his hands began to shake. "Please, p-please there must be another way I-I can please you," he said softly. 

“No. I want this. You should be grateful - after tending to Cull, this should be a blessing. Painless. Gentle.”

He nodded, swallowing. He should be grateful. He shut his eyes and leaned forward, mimicking what Ebony had done to him before with his small hands on either of Corvus' cheeks. 

“Oh… oh, pretty boy. That tongue of yours… so small, so soft…”

Corvus gripped the counter, spreading his legs.

His breath hitched, unable to sob properly as he licked and teased his muscle, rolling his tongue against it. Just get through it. Get it over with. Bear it. 

“Oh, yes… There is no pleasure greater than your sinful mouth being put to use. God will bless you, boy, for the services you provide us. Touch me, touch my cock…”

He felt cold, sick, utterly vile for doing this. He didn't want God's blessing or anyone else's if this is what he had to suffer through for it. Obedience, however, was the only way through it. 

He reached up and, as instructed, began stroking him clumsily. The lump in his throat was too much, causing the tears in his eyes to fall freely. 

“After so long your grip is still so shy. So inexperienced. I like it.”

Father Corvus reached back and pulled Loki’s face closer.

“Faster, Loki…”

He grunted, forced closer to him. His stomach turned again and he swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. 

He obeyed the command, stroking him faster, trying to do it with enough skill to make him come quickly. 

“That’s better! Good boy, a good pet for your Fathers… I’m close already…”

Father Corvus had the weakest endurance of the three, he always had. It was a good thing for Loki.

He stroked faster, urging him to come, to spill over his hand and finally end this. The day now felt like an eternity, dragging on for hours upon hours when it was hardly time for lunch. Once this was through he could find his freedom again, break away from this horrible place and live his terrible life alone. At least in his crate he wasn’t forced to do these things.

Moaning, Corvus’s legs trembled. He thrust into Loki’s small little hand and came over the counter. He whispered prayers and praises, his cunt fluttering against Loki’s mouth.

He twisted away, viciously wiping his mouth in pure disgust with himself. He pushed himself away from him, trembling from head to toe.

“You’re free to go. There are some bone scraps with meat still on them in the bin, if you’d like.”

Loki glared at the back of his head, humiliated and hateful tears burning paths down his cheeks. “Why can’t I have the stew you’re making?” He asked, his voice soft but angry.

“Because,” answered Father Corvus, “it’s for charity. We’ll be feeding the destitute come sundown. You’re welcome to line up for a bowl then, but not before. That wouldn’t be fair, would it, pet?”

“Fair? What would any of you know about fair?!” His anger spiked, and he clenched his hands into fists, tight. The moment he did, the fire beneath the stove flashed over, blowing out the door and filling the room with smoke. 

Loki took the opportunity to grab what food there was on the counter -namely some fruit, bread and cheese- and ran out the door. Sobbing, he retrieved the tunic from its hiding place and hurried into the washroom. 

He locked the door tight behind him. He had a few minutes before they would look for him. He vomited again, and scrubbed his face raw with the icy water in the sink with bits of soap left nearby. He dropped his pants and did the same.

Once he was as clean as he could manage in a short time he forced the window open, slipping through the iron bars outside the glass with his goods and hurried away from the cursed building. 

He didn’t stop running until he was safe behind the bakery, hidden in his crate that pressed against the wall the ovens were against. 

He cried loudly, wrapping Thor’s tunic around himself tight, face pressed into the bag of straw he used as a pillow. 

If he caused the oven to blow, if he had done that with his mind as he’d wanted to, then he was evil, just as they said. A demon, a witch, an ill omen that would bring about damnation and ruin wherever he went. He deserved what they’d done to him. 

He cried himself to sleep in the middle of the day, the warm brick wall pressed against his back, tears drying on his little face. 

Corvus coughed as smoke filled his lungs. The little demon boy wouldn’t get away with this! They were cleansing him, saving him from his Satanic power - how dare he lash out with them! Clearly he hadn’t been fucked enough. Nothing was working. What more could they do? Their seed was the most blessed, the holiest of all. If it couldn’t dampen Loki’s evil abilities… 

Then they’d have to do something drastic.

Ebony and Cull joined him, drawn by the smoke.

“Loki?” Father Cull asked coldly.

“Obviously!” spat Father Corvus.

Father Ebony grabbed a cloth and started to fan the smoke out the windows. The others followed suit.

“My brothers, it may be time we take more drastic measures. I believe we have no other choice.”

“What is it you speak of?”

“Exorcism.”


	4. Market Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor makes his way to Asgard to sell his goods, eager to see little Loki once more.

Thor pulled his cart out of the woods and onto the main road. It was laden with fresh kills and small tools he’d carved from bone and horn. There were fresh loaves of bread, eggs from his hens, and several small pots of honey as well.

People parted for him, staring, as he marched along with his head held high. Wild as he looked, of course they would gawk and tremble, and he liked it that way. Without the protection of a booth between them their bravery all but evaporated. However he wasn’t focusing on them. He had something far more pleasant on his mind. 

For the past few days all he could think about was this journey. He’d been so looking forward to the trip- his home was far too quiet without Loki’s laughter. The boy’s sudden arrival and departure had left a chasm in the walls, a hollow, jagged tear in the forest itself that he could feel with every breath he took. The only salve was knowing he would see him again soon.

Getting attached so quickly was a poor idea. He knew the child for all of twenty-four hours, but Thor couldn’t help himself. Loki was...enchanting.

Or, maybe he was right. Maybe Thor was just lonely.

Farther down the road, just outside the main throng of people, is where the enigmatic boy placed himself on the chilly morning.

Loki sat on a pile of empty crates, idly swinging his legs back and forth and nibbling on a stolen apple. The streets were buzzing with people; merchants, buyers, animals, children, the lot. Sounds of their laughter, of joy, or the barking of orders, animals braying filled the usually quiet village. It was comforting, the sounds, even the smells of sweets and cooked meat all mingled together with dirt and iron made him feel better, safer, as though it was cloaking him and keeping him invisible.

He was miserable, the weight of his torture from the days prior heavy on his narrow little shoulders shoulders. His skin still bore their marks, his movements stiff and aching, which would hinder him from running if they caught up to him again. 

With such stresses his mind was tormented. His nightmares were constant, making his sleep fitful, his waking hours overflowing with anxiety. Every shadow made him jump, every sound near his little hideaway behind the bakery flooding him with so much fear he thought his heart would burst. It was hellish, but he made it to today, when things would be better. When he would see Thor again.

Though he had stayed clear of the church, Father Ebony was still bound to make an appearance here at some point in the day, as usual. Sister Proxima in tow, looking so pious and innocent in her habit and white robes, and Cull behind her watching her shake the collection plate at people barely able to feed their children. It sickened him, their false display of holiness. 

He shook the thoughts away, trying to focus on his breakfast and tell himself today would be good, despite everything else.

A rock hurtled through the air. The stone whipped past his ear, just barely missing his face. He jumped, startled, and met eyes with the same disgusting group of children that harassed him daily. He scowled.

“Don’t fuckin’ move, freak!” The boy, who was arming himself again, cackled. “I wanna see if I can get you between the eyes!”

“Bet if you hit him hard enough you can knock the devil out!” A smaller boy squealed.

Loki’s hand clenched at his side, jaw flexing, but he kept his head down, focusing on eating and just ignored them, pretending they didn’t exist.

“Oi! Little fucker, you look at me when I’m talking to you!” Another stone flew, and missed again. “Hey! I said look at me!” This time the rock struck his cheek, cutting him, and he looked up, his cold eyes meeting the other boy’s gaze and locking there.

He felt...something. Something strange that came over him, that welled in his belly and grew from the spark of hatred that constantly smouldered there. He reacted on instinct alone, glaring at the boy with an intense, hateful look of his own while the feeling churned and churned inside of him. The child didn’t look away. In fact, it seemed he couldn’t move at all.

Keeping their eyes locked, Loki simply thought about flooding the child with fear. He used the violent feelings brewing inside to make him feel as awful as he and his little friends made him feel every fucking day. When they chased him, beat him, taunted and jeered at him because they could and no one would stop them. He wanted every bit of that terror and pain they caused him to be felt and understood by this vile boy. 

As he looked at him, a streak of urine wet the boy’s pants and trickled down his leg. 

“Hey, hey, what are you doing?! Stop it!” A girl, the boy’s sister, yelled. “Stop it! Stop bewitching him, devil!” She screamed and shoved Loki so he fell back and off the crates, breaking whatever trance he’d been in. The children ran, the boy screaming as he went. 

_ “Demon! He’s a damned demon!” _

Loki slowly got up, dusting himself off, bewildered and wholly confused about what had just happened to him. He looked around for his breakfast, and found the apple lying in a puddle, ruined. 

“Damn it,” he spat.

Thor heard the commotion and hurried toward it. 

“Hey! Hey! What’s going on? Are you alright?”

Loki jumped, immediately defensive at the sound of another voice, tensed and ready to flee if he had to. When his eyes rested on Thor and recognition sparked in them, his whole face lit up like a beacon. He grinned at him, his anger gone in an instant, food forgotten in the dirt. 

He paused. It was Loki, the sweet boy from the woods. Thor took a moment to take in the situation - some scrapes, dirty clothes, and a lost apple. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

“Loki… were the kids giving you trouble?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he promised, the bruise from the stone already forming on his pale flesh. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming today.”

Thor knelt down and offered him a hand. 

“I promised I would. Come with me, we’ll go to the market together.”

He took his hand, taking a moment to hug him around his middle before happily going with him. 

Thor lifted him up and sat him on his broad shoulders as if he weighed nothing. His thighs were cool against his cheeks, smooth and soft as silk. 

He gave a delighted squeal, giggling as he was placed high above everyone else, with Thor's warm, safe presence beneath him. 

“Are you hungry?”

"I am," he said, looking around. "I dropped my apple."

“You can have one of my loaves of bread when we get to the market.”

Loki leaned down so he was sort of looking at him. "Are you sure? That's a lot of bread."

“I’m certain. A growing boy needs to eat, after all.”

He giggled. "You're still funny," he smiled, gently running his fingers through Thor's hair.

Thor hummed softly, enjoying the feel of Loki’s hands. It was almost overwhelming - he’d never been touched so gently or so intimately, let alone in public.

“How am I funny?”

"No one talks to me like you," he explained. "You know, you'd have really pretty hair if you brushed it sometimes," he joked, combing out a few little knots himself. 

“I don’t have a brush,” Thor replied. “Maybe I should pick one up today.”

"You can use mine! If we can't find one," he promised, leaning over again to smile at him. 

Thor smiled back at him. “That’s nice of you. Thank you.”

Loki straightened up, wondering if the strange looks were for him, for Thor, or for both of them together. Regardless, he felt like no one could touch him right now, that no one would dare. It felt good. 

The market was busy, people shouting, laughing, eating, babies crying. It was exciting and loud, and Loki finally had the chance to see it all properly. 

Thor let his smile disappear as they entered. Everyone was staring, their gazes fearful and cold. He glared, challenging the townsfolk to say anything to either of them. He wouldn’t let them ruin their day.

He pulled his cart up to an empty stall and set Loki on the ground. 

“Help me set up the display?”

He smiled at him, nodding quickly. "Yes! What do you need?"

“Can you set out the bread and eggs? I’ll handle the meat.”

Loki did as he was asked, carefully moving and setting up the displays of food, doing his best to make them look nice and presentable to passersby. 

When he was finished he looked up at him for approval. 

Thor looked over his work. He gave Loki a nod and a soft smile. 

“Good job. You have an eye for this.”

Loki beamed, filling with light at the simple praise. "Thank you."

He lifted a deer carcass out of the cart and laid it on the table. Two more followed. He figured he could cut the meat for those who bought it and sell the skin, bones, and antlers after. A rabbit joined the display, and an older rooster he’d already plucked.

Loki turned away, a bit woozy at a sight he wasn't used to. 

“Are you alright?”

Loki nodded a little. "I don't really look at animals when they're like that," he explained. 

“Oh… Is that a problem?” 

Thor wiped his hands off on his cloak and knelt down in front of Loki. He reached out, gently brushing his shoulder. 

He tensed when Thor touched him, just as he had a few days before, but relaxed. 

"No. Not your problem, anyway, I just won't look. You need to sell them, people need to eat. Doesn't matter if I mind seeing them or not," he said quietly. 

“Are you certain? You don’t have to help if it’s too much.”

"I want to help you!" He assured. "And...and I missed you." He glanced at him through his lashes. 

Thor licked his lips and flashed Loki a smile. He couldn’t help himself - Loki’s beautiful green eyes were impossible to resist. 

“I’ve missed you too, Loki. More than words can express.”

He forced himself to stand again and placed two crates behind the display. “Come sit with me.”

Loki was surprised but elated that his new friend missed him too. He followed him, sitting on his designated crate, hardly able to see over the table. He looked up at him and smiled again. 

"How are you?" He asked brightly. 

“Good. better now. It’s been too quiet… Your company made quite a difference. One I didn’t notice until you’d come and gone. I’ve been hunting the past few days. How about you, Loki?”

Thor glanced over him. He looked haggard and dirty, and more tired than when they’d met. Had the children been that cruel to him in such a short time?

"I'll be sure to come around and make noise, then," he chuckled. 

He wilted visibly at his question, looking away and shrugging a little. "I've, I've been alright enough. Getting by." 

Who would believe him? Who would believe the most pious and righteous of men in this town were abusing him as they were? And if they did know, would they care? Thor might be different, but everyone had their limits. And if he rejected him because of, or what he alleged happened to him...it would break him. 

“Are you sure?” Thor could see the change in him, from his posture to the very light in his eyes. “Have the children been hurting you?”

He shook his head. "No. No more than usual, anyway," he assured. "They left me alone for the most part. Til today, anyway. You really scared them."

“What about the adults?”

He just shook his head this time, barely meeting his eyes. "No. Nothing out of the ordinary." At least the last part wasn't a lie. 

“Hrm. Alright. I believe you.”

The first customer of the day arrived, browsing over Thor’s wares. She inspected his eggs, lifting them and feeling them to check their freshness.

“These are nice eggs; how much?”

“Three copper per. Unless you have flour, then a cup.”

“No flour today, not from me at least. Here.”

She fished out some copper and purchased three eggs from him. Thor gave her a nod and slipped the coins into the pouch by his side.

Loki stayed quiet, trying not to draw attention to himself in case his presence alone was enough to make her leave and not buy the eggs. Causing Thor any trouble wasn't something he wanted. 

"You're sure you want me here?" He asked. 

“Of course I do. If anyone gives either of us trouble, I’ll break them.” He reached out and rubbed Loki’s back, gentle and slow.

"I don't want to cost you anything," he explained. 

Again he tensed, then relaxed under Thor's touch. He cooed softly, the touch soothing him to his core and warming him from the inside out. 

“You won’t. People here are desperate for fresh meat, since no one will brave the forest. Why don’t you come home with me tonight? You smell like sour fruit - my bath is always open to you.”

He flushed, embarrassed, and looked away. "Someone spilled wine on me," he said quietly. 

He'd tried so hard to get the reek of it off of him and he was still too vile to be close to. He looked at his hands, the prior events bombarding him in flashes that made him shake. 

“Oh… I’m sorry. I thought perhaps you’d found yourself a keg,” Thor replied, gently poking him to show he was teasing. 

He smiled a little, though it didn't reach his eyes. "If you really want me to, then I will go home with you," he agreed. 

“I want you to come. Home, with me, ah - after the market.”

Thor’s cheeks flushed a soft rose as he turned back to the table. He kept his hand planted on Loki’s back, gently caressing him as if for his own comfort. Having a familiar face - and a friendly one at that - was already making his trip more bearable. 

He smiled genuinely, giggling a little. "I knew what you meant."

A tall man walked up to the table, appraising the meat while his young daughter peeked around as well. 

"How long since these were slaughtered?" The man asked, nodding to the deer carcasses. 

“Three days. They were hung to age the meat; give it more flavor.”

The man nodded, talking over prices with Thor. 

His daughter, meanwhile, was haphazardly picking up eggs and looking at them and clumsily putting them back. 

"Be careful," Loki warned. The girl, who he knew, glared at him for the order and purposefully dropped the egg she was holding on the ground.

"Hey!" He stood, trying to pull the eggs away from her now as she grabbed another and threw it at him. It struck him squarely, yolk and blood from a half-formed chick running down his cheek. 

The girl screamed and rushed to her father's side, who looked confused while his child bawled. 

"Papa he's cursed! He's cursed!"

"I'm not!" He defended. 

Thor stood, glaring daggers at the child. His good eggs, wasted. His friend, abused.

“You’re going to pay for the eggs she stole. And broke. And you, girl, apologize to my companion.”

"I won't!" She said defiantly. Her father jerked her arm, dragging her behind him as he dropped coins on the table, cursing. 

"She's only saying what the church has told us," he informed, as if this spoke to the fact that they were the ultimate authority. "But you don't throw eggs at people, Abigail!" He shouted. She bawled louder. 

Loki wiped the egg off his face, cheeks burning with humiliation, hot tears standing in his eyes. 

“If you’d stop letting the church dictate your lives, then you wouldn’t have to pay me for meat. They’re not as just as they like to pretend.”

Thor took the coins, scowling after them as they scuttled off, the man still scolding the child. When they were gone he knelt beside Loki and pulled a rag out of his sack. 

“Here, let me help.” He turned over his waterskin and got it wet, then gently cleaned the blood and yolk from Loki’s face. 

He sniffled, trying not to cry as Thor wiped his face. "Thank you," he whispered. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry these bastards treat you like this. There’s nothing wrong with you, Loki.”

He shook his head. "It's alright. They didn't kill me when I showed up here, so I should be grateful for that at least," he said softly. 

“That doesn’t mean you have to put up with it.”

"It gets worse if I fight back," he said softly, looking down. "I'm weak. Small. I'm not strong like you." 

“Then I’ll train you,” Thor replied firmly.

He blinked, surprised. "To fight?"

“To hold your own, at the very least. If you want.”

He nodded, looking hopeful. "I'd like that very much."

“Good. We’ll start whenever you’re ready.”

He smiled. "Thank you," he said softly. "For being so kind to me. And helping me."

“You’re very welcome, Loki. People like us, on the outskirts of society, need to look out for one another.”

He nodded, smiling softly. "I dunno how, but I'll find a way to protect you too."

Thor leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his hair. 

“Your company is all I need, Loki. I promise. Having met you changed my life so suddenly, so certainly…”

Loki jumped and gasped audibly when he came so close, then stared up at him as if he were the sun itself. 

"Is that good or bad?" He asked. 

“It’s very good, Loki. You… you know you can spend several days with me, right? It’s cold this time of year.”

Thor smiled at him, warm and gentle. “I could use your help, as well. You could help me with my hens if you don’t feel comfortable staying for free.”

"Well, I...I have a place I sleep… I don't want to be a burden, though. Or invade your privacy," he said quietly. 

“I won’t push you or pressure you. Just know that if the weather is rough, my door is open to you.”

He smiled gently, placing his hand over Thor's. "Thank you."

“You’re welcome.”

Another customer approached, appraising his meat.

“Is this fresh?”

“Yes it is. What cut do you want? I can carve it for you.”

The customer considered a moment, letting her eyes move over the first deer.

“Loin steaks, please.”

Thor nodded and rose, drawing his knife from its sheath. “Might want to close your eyes, Loki.”

He did as he was asked, turning his head and shut his eyes for good measure. 

Once he was sure Loki wasn’t watching, Thor slid the blade into the deer carcass and began to cut the steaks. It was easy work, and within minutes he was rinsing the meat and passing it to the villager.

He covered his ears after a moment, the sound igniting… something, again. Something deep and primal in the back of his mind that itched and scratched. Blood, meat and bone, muscles tearing, a hot, sickening smell that fogged the icy air. Hands and blades so red--

He shook his head, clearing the strange, vague memory. 

Thor took payment from the woman and sat back down. His hands were smeared with thin blood. 

“Okay, Loki. It’s clear.”

He turned back around, glancing at his hands. "Thank you," he said softly. He settled back on the crate, graciously taking the bread Thor offered him after he’d cleaned his hands and the woman had gone with her cuts of meat. 

Watching people pass by, eating, he felt somewhat at peace. He enjoyed the comfortable silence with Thor, and even leaned against his side for awhile, taking in his warmth and his presence as though he couldn’t get enough of it. 

In an instant, that peace shattered.

A voice caught his attention, one out of hundreds, that made his blood run cold.

Father Ebony, with Sister Proxima following just as he’d predicted, was walking down the middle of the road. He preached gently, his tone cloying and littered with veiled threats. His words slithered into the ears of all who heard, coaxing coins from passerby that tumbled into the plate in Proxima's hands. 

The parade ended with Father Cull holding a massive crucifix on a pike, signaling to everyone who they were and what they were doing. 

Without a word, Loki hopped off the crate and ducked behind the booth, pressing his back against the thin wood so he wouldn't be seen. 

“Loki? Are you alright?” 

Thor followed where the boy had been looking to the line of clergy. It wasn’t difficult to piece together Loki’s fear. He’d already told him how little they cared for him, barely feeding him and refusing him shelter - were they hurting him too? Is that why he wouldn’t tell Thor what was wrong?

He opened his cloak and beckoned Loki into its depths.

Loki hurried into it, hugging whatever part of him he could reach and shut his eyes tight. He heard Ebony's voice draw closer, his grip getting tighter as he drew closer to Thor’s stall. 

“Alms for the church, sir?”


	5. Power of the Norns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Ebony and the clergy of Asgard’s church get a taste of the Odinson’s true strength.

Father Ebony’s sickly sweet voice immediately set Thor on edge. One hand tightened into a fist beneath the wooden display.

“Perhaps, Father. I’m not from this village. Can you tell me what the alms go toward? Feeding the hungry? Caring for orphans? Shelter for those without homes?”

“Ah… we do all of those things. Our own Father Corvus cooks -“

“I could have sworn I saw a boy here last market. Barely clothed, starving, bruised… do you ever take care of his needs? Is he not one of your lost lambs, looking for his flock?”

Loki listened intently, the priest's voice making his stomach turn. He was afraid of this man, of his power and the monstrous things he was capable of. To Loki, vulnerable as he was, this man was mightier than any storm and equally as unstoppable. And that was precisely why he was so worried he could and would hurt Thor. 

“The village ghost? He’s cursed, cast out by God himself. It’s true we sometimes tend to the boy and hire him for chores, but -“

“Then no. I’m giving you nothing. If you won’t help even the most desperate in your village, you’re no man of God. You’re a charlatan.”

Father Ebony glared at Thor with pure hate in his gaze.

“And who are you to make such foul accusations?”

“Thor. Odinson, I believe the townsfolk call me.”

It looked as if the air had been sucked from Father Ebony’s lungs. Odinson? The creature from the forest? No wonder he always sold such fine meats, no one else dared enter his hunting grounds.

“You!” he hissed. ”You’re an abomination, just like that wretched child!”

Loki's heart was pounding, and his fear turned to pure rage when the priest began to yell. He couldn't talk to Thor like that. He could hurt him and yell at him and do as he liked with him, but he didn't get to speak to Thor in that manner, comparing him to himself as if that were remotely true. 

He scowled, and he felt that same strange, overwhelming feeling spark in the pit of his belly. He wanted him to hurt, he wanted him to go away, he wanted to shut him up. 

As he thought this, the coins the priest had put into his pocket began to heat up, getting hotter and hotter until he either took them out or they burned clean through his clothes and skin. 

“Ah! What in the - ouch!” 

Loki jumped when Ebony shouted, clinging to Thor tighter. He did it. He did that. This kept happening to him, with more frequency as time passed. Twice just today…

Father Ebony fished the coins out of his robe and dropped them on the ground. The heated metal sent steam rising into the cool morning air. His frantic eyes shifted from the coins to Thor and back again.

“Demon… Devil… You have unholy powers, just like that little wretch-!“

“No, I’m just not one of your brainwashed fools! Get out of my sight, Father, before I toss you out of this market on your arse.”

“You lay a hand on me and the good Father Cull here will see to it you leave our town in pieces.”

The air around them seemed to grow colder as Thor stood, drawing himself to his full height. The world buzzed as if in the eye of a thunderstorm. It grew dry, the moisture in the air wicked away by the wind. Energy thrummed around him, invisible but powerful. 

Old. 

“I would like to see him try.”

Loki stared up at him, draped in the cloak still, his large eyes wide with wonder. 

The worry and stress Loki had felt having the priests so close to Thor vanished, watching the world react to his anger accordingly. 

“Cull! Grab him!”

Father Cull reached over the table and gripped Thor by the front of his leathers. He started to hoist him over the table -

Bright blue light flooded their vision. People cried out in shock near the scene. Lightning arced along his arms and into Cull, sending him flying backwards into Thor’s cart. The dull, rolling roar of thunder shook the very earth beneath their feet.

“A priest should know better than to meddle in the affairs of the old Gods. The Norns keep their own, Father.”

Loki jumped, skittering backward with a quiet cry. The smell of the burnt ground and the lightning flash stung his nose, the thunder making his bones tremble. 

He moved to hide again, keeping the cloak over himself, both awed and afraid. 

The thin, tall priest helped Cull to his feet and glanced at Father Ebony for instruction. Seething though he was, he couldn’t mask the fear in his eyes. He took several trembling steps back, gaze glued to Thor.

“We took care of your kind once, heathen. Cross me and we’ll put you to the fires as well. Come, brothers - it’s time we prepared for the afternoon Mass.”

Lokilet out a breath once he was gone, slowly rising and touching Thor's arm. "How did you do that?"

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Thor admitted. “I just felt… angry.”

He nodded a little, understanding but far too afraid to admit it yet. "I'm glad you did."

“You’re glad I was… angry?”

"Yeah. You made them leave. You scared them."

Thor shrugged. “I’m sure anyone could have.”

He shook his head rapidly. "No. No, everyone, I mean  _ every  _ last soul in this village, is terrified of them. No one would dare cross them. But you did."

“... Someone has to. They can’t keep treating the village as their personal coffers.”

"They gave some of it back," he noted, nodding to the coins on the ground. 

Thor let out a quiet sigh. “Not enough. Maybe you could drop those off around the stalls, or to the homeless of the town.”

"Like me?" He chuckled, gathering them and handing them off to Thor.

“Well… yes. Like you. If you want to keep the coins I won’t fault you.”

He shook his head. "I don't want their money. Here, hang on." He took the coins and slipped off down the street. 

Near a fountain a few stalls down, a young, weathered looking woman was selling meagre bundles of flowers. Her belly was swollen with child, and though she beckoned and called to people as they passed, they didn’t so much as look at her. She didn’t have a husband, Loki understood, and for that it pained people to speak to her. Ebony said she was wicked, but the boy never thought so. He did wonder why her mother wasn’t helping her today. 

Loki handed her the coins, smiling at her, and pointed at several bouquets as well as something resting beside her. She handed them to him graciously, her tired eyes wet, and even gave him a little pat on the head. 

He hurried back to Thor, his arms full of flowers, and smiled over them at him. "These are for you!" He exclaimed. 

Thor’s heart felt as though it were melting. He took the flowers, smiling a soft, genuine smile that seemed to make his eyes glow once more - though not with ancient power. With warmth.

“Oh, Loki… I love them. Thank you.”

He beamed at the praise and how happy Thor looked. 

"She gave me an extra comb she had, too!" He exclaimed. He hurried behind the booth again and stacked the crates high enough so he could sit comfortably behind Thor and reach his head without having to sit on his shoulders. 

"I'll be careful," he promised. "And this'll help pass the time today."

He began brushing through Thor's hair, gentle and patient. 

Thor let out a quiet groan and tipped his head back. Despite his best efforts his eyes fell closed, Loki’s little hands soothing the storm that had been raging inside him. The sounds of the market fell away as he lost himself in those soft touches.

He blushed when Thor groaned but didn't stop. Slowly but surely he brushed through every tangle and knot, leaving Thor's hair glossy and soft once he was through. 

"There," he smiled. "I'm not done yet, but feel it!"

“Mmn… You’re very gentle.”

Thor reached up and ran his hands through his hair. It was much softer, though it still needed a thorough washing.

Lokigave a happy little sound and began working braids into his hair. 

“You’re good at this.”

"You get bored a lot being alone," he said, shrugging. He reached down for the flowers and started making a crown from some of them. He hummed a quiet song, a sort of haunting lullaby.

Thor’s eyes seemed sealed closed. His breathing slowed. The storm above began to fade, the gathering clouds floating away as Thor relaxed. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Loki, and as his beautiful voice washed over him he knew he’d kill if the boy asked him to.

Loki watched the clouds fade as Thor relaxed, feeling relieved and happy he could help him. 

Once the crown was done he gently set it on Thor's head, beaming. "There we go!"

He blinked awake as the weight settled on his head. His eyes still felt like iron weights, but he was able to hold them open. 

“Hm… How do I look?”

Loki hopped down and looked around to see him, beaming. "Beautiful. Can I put some in your beard?" He asked, excited. 

“Oh… I don’t see why not. Sure.” 

Loki took some of the smaller flowers and climbed into Thor's lap. He worked through more tangles and knots with his little fingers before gently weaving the flowers into his beard. He grinned again. "All done!"

Loki’s weight on his lap caught Thor off guard. As the boy shifted and stretched to reach his face, his legs pressed against Thor’s groin. He bit back a surprised moan. It was an accident. Nothing more. His body’s reaction was instinct - he’d never hurt Loki or any other child. 

Still, it felt far too good as his body warmed with him so close.

“Does it look good?”

Loki was so focused on his work he didn't pay attention to Thor's excitement. He did, however, like being so close to him, his warmth and tenderness. He felt safe being this close to him, something he certainly wasn't used to. 

He beamed at him. "I think so! Here--" He hurried over to Thor's cart, finding a spoon and ran back. "It's a poor mirror, but you can kinda see."”

Thor took it and glanced at his reflection. He looked… soft. Inviting. He couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto his face.

“I like it, Loki. Thank you.”

He grinned right back at him. "You're welcome, Thor." He hugged him, tentative in case he didn't want him to touch him.

Thor pulled Loki into his arms and lifted him off the ground. His heart pounded in his ears as he spun Loki around, laughing and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

The sudden but happy movement caught him off guard. He squealed in delight, giggling with more light and life in his eyes than he'd had in such a long time. 

He cooed at the kiss, shutting his eyes just to relish the feeling. 

“Ah… you’re special, Loki. So very special.”

He giggled. "You keep saying that."

“I mean it.”

"Well thank you," he grinned. "You're special too."

* * *

As the sun sank below the horizon, Thor made his rounds at the other stalls. He bought flour and honey, two things he couldn’t get in the Forest. Most of his goods sold - he loaded the remaining furs, meat, and eggs back into his cart, along with the rest of the flowers Loki gave him.

“Coming home with me?”

He nodded quickly. "Who else is going to make sure you wash your hair properly?" He grinned. 

Thor lifted him onto his shoulders and pulled the cart back toward the woods.

He giggled again, happy to be up so high as they walked. "What have you been up to? Since I left?"

“Didn’t you ask that when I found you today? I’ve been hunting in preparation, mostly. For the market. I’ll probably get to work tanning the leftover hides while you’re staying, making jerky…”

"That was hours ago," he scoffed. "Am I supposed to remember that?" He was teasing him. "And I asked how you've been, not what you were doing."

“I’ve been alright. Strangely lonely, if I’m being honest. You seem to have an effect on me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his tone genuine and soft. “I...I didn’t think you would care. Never had someone care if I’m there or not before. Well…” He swallowed, glancing toward the church. “Not someone who just wanted to see me.”

“That isn’t fair. You’re good company. It isn’t a bad thing - I can tell you’re independent, Loki, I’m not going to force you to stay with me - I'm just… I don’t think I’ve ever trusted someone so thoroughly. Not this fast, either. Your presence is like a balm.”

Loki hesitated before he spoke again, trying not to give anything away. “I… It’s not that I don’t want to stay with you,” he explained. “I, um… I’ll always come back.” He spoke definitively, as if he were swearing to himself, the universe and Thor. “No matter what, I’ll always come back. I like you.”

“I like you too.”

Thor never intended to push the matter. He fell quiet, following the road past the wooden walls of the town.

Loki rested his chin on the top of Thor’s head, his hands idly playing with his hair as they moved closer to the woods.

Finding the trail was easy for Thor. The cart needed space and even land to move, and over the years he’d worn a small path to the cottage through the brush. He pulled it up onto the ruts and continued in as the woods seemed to close behind him.

Though many of the branches hung low enough to hit or even knock Loki down, not one touched him with more than a gentle graze, as if welcoming him back into the embrace of the forest. He felt himself relax, staring up at the leaves, the sky, and the raven that just landed a few trees ahead. 

It cawed and Loki grinned. “That bird follows me all the time,” he said, nodding to it. “I feed him when I can, maybe that’s why.”

“Blackbirds are smart. They know who they can trust. You’ve shown it you’re a friend by feeding it.”

“Some people don’t like them ‘cause they think they’re bad luck.” He paused a moment. “A lot of people think a lot of silly things are bad luck, don’t they?” 

“They do,” Thor answered.

He fell silent again, resting his cheek on Thor’s head now, shutting his eyes.

Finally, after a long but easy trek, Thor came to a stop in front of his cabin. He knelt down and gently tapped Loki’s leg. 

“We’re here. Hop down so I can put everything away.”

He sat up, rubbing his eyes and hopped down to the ground. “I can help,” he said with a little yawn.

“Are you sure? You seem awfully tired.”

He shook his head. “I wanna help. I can do it,” he promised. He was exhausted, and now that he felt safe and comfortable without an ounce of fear in him, sleep is all his body wanted. But he had to help, and he really wanted a bath.

He smiled at Thor, blinking up at him. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Can you take the eggs to the cellar?”

“Yes!” He smiled, getting the few that were left and carried it over to the cellar door. He set them down gently and opened the door, looking around for the shelf they were supposed to go on.

Thor unloaded the skins and carried them to the shed. He set them on his workbench and returned to the cart. The leftover meat would make several days worth of meals. He gathered the cuts in a basket and brought it into the kitchen. 

He set them all down neatly and got up, shutting the cellar securely behind him and toddled back to the house. He appeared back in the kitchen, smiling warmly at him. “I’m done,” he said, standing proudly.

“Thank you for your help. Are you ready for a bath?”

“Oh, yes! I’ve been looking forward to it,” he grinned. 

Though he’d never say so aloud, so had Thor. He wanted to wash Loki with his bare hands, slide them over Loki’s skin, massage the tension from his muscles. He longed to listen to his giggles and soft moans.

“Let’s get you ready then.”

Loki gave a sleepy little smile and wandered toward the bathroom, unaware of anything Thor might be thinking. If he only knew how welcoming a gentle touch would be, how it might heal some of the damage that had been wrought on him, how he might learn it didn’t always have to be so terrible, Thor might not chastise himself so much for his thoughts. 

Once in the bathroom Loki immediately began to strip. He took off the tunic Thor had given him first, the rags beneath more tattered and threadbare than they were a few days ago. They would fall apart any day now, by the looks of them. 

He pulled the shirt over his head and pushed his pants down, revealing new and awful bruises as well as a few deep scratches on his body.

Thor followed him, preparing to start the fire and warm the water for him. He couldn’t help but stare - and the new marks worried him.

“Loki? Who hurt you?”

His heart thudded to a stop and he stiffened. “No one,” he said immediately, looking away. “I stole some food and fell while I was running away.” 

“Loki. These are scratches. From fingernails. And… there’s bruising here. Your inner thighs, and… did children do this? Were you… raped?”

He felt… Frozen. And scared. His mouth had gone dry, his heart pounded somewhere in his throat and he couldn’t move. He stared at the floor, his arms pulled up to his chest while his expression broke. He couldn’t speak at all, he could only let out short, heartbreaking sobs that shook his whole body.

“Oh, Gods - I’m sorry!” 

Thor pulled him into his arms and rubbed his bare shoulders. He hadn’t expected something so cruel. If he found out who did this…

They wouldn’t survive his attention.

He cried, shaking in Thor’s arms and desperately seeking more warmth, more comfort in Thor’s embrace. He hid in his chest, engulfed in him and safely hidden there. He didn’t say a word and he wasn’t sure how long it might be before he spoke again, but for now all he could do was sob. 

“You’re safe here. No one will hurt you. I swear to you, Loki, I will keep you safe. As safe as I can. Stay here with me awhile, let me protect you while you heal.”

He nodded, resting his head against his chest, his face pressed into his neck while wet tears fell onto his skin. He would stay here, with Thor, and get better. He could allow himself some happiness and protection far away from his abusers. 

He clung to Thor tighter, listening to the heavy heart beat in his chest. Safe. He was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon, soon, there will be some hot goodies. Thanks for sticking with us! It will all be worth it, we swear <3


	6. Tender Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As gentle as Thor is, Loki can feel his desire. His lust. His hunger. Unlike the clergy Thor doesn't act on it - and Loki is grateful, he is, but he's also curious.

Loki wasn't going anywhere. He’d stay right here with Thor and allow himself some peace, just for a little while. Too long and they’d come looking for him and jail Thor for kidnapping, or something equally ridiculous - anything they could pin to him. 

Thor kissed his hair. The poor boy had been through more than he could have imagined. It wasn’t just the bullying. The cruelty of the clergy and their neglect and abuse chilled him to his very core. Their day would come. He would see to that. 

“When the bath is ready, would you like me to join you?”

Slowly, Loki nodded. He didn’t want him to let go, and he was afraid that, if he did, he’d fall into whatever abyss was scratching at the back of his mind waiting to suck him under and drown him. 

“Alright. Step back, and I’ll undress.”

He let go with some hesitation, looking small and frightened.

Thor began to strip his clothes. He moved slowly, careful not to expose too much of his body for fear of scaring Loki away. 

Loki didn't mean to stare, but he did. He'd seen a bit of him before, in the dark, and briefly the morning after he slept over, but he got a proper look at him now. 

The planes of muscle and soft skin, the scars etched deep into his flesh, the way his hair glittered against his tanned skin, it was breathtaking. And he wasn't afraid. Not one bit.

When Thor was finished he climbed into the tub and offered Loki his hand.

He took it, carefully getting into the water, facing him on the other side. 

"Thank you," he whispered. 

“You don’t have to sit so far away, Loki. If you come closer, I’ll wash you."

He moved closer, until he rested in his lap, his soft thighs against his skin. "Sorry," he said softly.

Thor wet his hands and rubbed his soap between them. Loki needed gentleness. Closeness. Intimacy without sexual abuse. He slid his soapy palms over Loki’s soft belly, rubbing his skin clean.

He cooed, shutting his eyes and focusing on his gentle touch and warm hands. He giggled after a moment. 

"That tickles," he smiled. 

“Oh? Does it? Does it tickle…  _ here _ ?”

Thor moved his hands toward his navel, tickling with intent.

He yelped and giggled, squirming. "Yes it does!"

“Hmn… I can’t quite tell…”

"Ah! No fair!" He laughed, twisting in his lap. 

Loki’s soft, wet skin slid against Thor’s groin. He let out a shuddering breath and kept smiling. It was an accident - in his delight to tease Loki and cheer him up, he’d forgotten how starved for touch he was. Despite his best efforts, his cock started to stiffen.

Loki felt the change beneath his legs, but said nothing just in case… in case his worst nightmare came true and all this happiness came tumbling down. Or in case Thor was embarrassed, which he also didn't want.

“Alright, alright, no more tickling. I promise.”

He continued to wash him, moving his hands up to Loki’s chest.

"Good, cause that was rude," he informed, smiling a little. He relaxed again, letting Thor touch and wash him. 

Thor massaged his skin, the pads of his thumbs caressing Loki’s small nipples. He swallowed, trying to fight the urge to tease them. The last thing he wanted was to scare or hurt the sweet little boy in his lap. Loki put his trust in him - he wouldn’t betray that. 

He melted in his arms, weary as he was, eyes closed as he touched him. Loki was already half asleep. It was like a drug, being touched so gently and feeling so safe and cared for. 

As Thor's calloused fingers moved over his chest he moaned, humming and letting his head rest against Thor's arm. 

The soft sound sent chills down Thor’s spine. He slowed his pace, stroking his nipples a little more surely, cock twitching beneath Loki’s cheeks.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered. “You seem to enjoy being touched here. Should I keep going, or wash your legs?”

He blushed, realizing himself, and sat up a little. "You, um, you can wash my legs," he nodded.

Thor added more soap to his hands and gently lifted Loki’s right leg out of the water. He began by massaging his rough, calloused feet, working out both the tension and the dead skin.

Loki giggled again. "That tickles too."

“I’m sorry. This time it’s entirely unintentional, I promise.”

He worked his way higher, up to Loki’s creamy thigh.

Loki shut his eyes again, cooing, tensing just a little when Thor came close to his bruises. 

“It’s alright. You’re safe, Loki.”

Thor’s touch grew even softer, careful not to press too hard.

"Sorry," he said quietly, not wanting Thor to think he was afraid of him. 

“You don’t need to apologize to me. I assure you, I’m not offended by your fears. I just want to help.”

Loki nodded. "Thank you," he whispered. He relaxed again, the hot water soothing his aches and pains. 

Thor moved to his other leg, repeating the process. He washed Loki thoroughly until all that remained was his little cock and the space between his cheeks.

“Ah… Loki? Do you want to wash your cock yourself? I don’t want you to feel like you’re in danger.”

He blushed and nodded, taking the soap from him. He stood, turning away from him as he washed himself, his stiff and sore muscles forcing him to go slowly. 

Once he finished he sat back down, curling against Thor and resting against his chest. 

"Thank you."

“For what?”

"For being so kind to me," he smiled. 

“Oh. You’re welcome. You can relax now. I’ll wash myself.”

He nodded, shutting his eyes and leaning back to rest. 

Thor washed his own body, turning away to clean his cock out of sight. Just in case, just in case, just in case - it was nearly a mantra at this point. Loki’s safety was always on the fore of his mind. He sunk lower into the water and cleaned his dirty hair, getting the grime out of his beard as well. The flowers came free and floated along the surface of the bath.

Loki sat up when he began to wash his hair, having given him privacy for the rest of his washing. "Can, um, can I help?" He asked. He'd been wanting to sink his fingers into Thor's golden locks since they first met, and he was itching for it now. 

“Hmn? Oh, of course. If you’d like.” 

He moved over so Thor's head was in his lap, reaching for some of the oils by the bathtub that he slowly began to work in his hair. He massaged his scalp and worked through any knots or tangles in his hair as he went, doing his best to be gentle and not hurt him. 

Thor let out a quiet hum as Loki tended to his hair. He was so gentle, so skilled, that Thor found himself almost drifting off to sleep as Loki’s little hands massaged his scalp.

“Oh…”

Loki smiled gently, glad he could make Thor happy and feel good. He worked through the braids he'd put into it,running his fingers through it over and over until it was soft and lush beneath his hands. 

"There," he said, letting it billow around him like a halo. "All done."

“That felt… incredible,” Thor breathed. “Thank you, Loki.”

Loki pressed a soft kiss to his forehead without thinking, instinctively wanting to taste his skin and continue soothing him all at once. "You're welcome."

Thor’s heart skipped a beat as Loki’s silken lips touched his skin. 

He looked back at him for a moment, his delicate fingers tracing the laugh lines just beginning to show at the corners of his eyes, briefly losing himself in the deep, piercing blue looking back at him. He wanted to say something, but what could he possibly say to explain how he felt without sounding just as lewd and sinful as he'd been accused of being?

He swallowed roughly, snapping out of it, and let him go. He slid back around to face him, allowing Thlr to sit up. 

“Would you like to soak while I make dinner?”

He shook his head, hard, his stomach twisting sickeningly with panic. "I don't want to be alone right now. Please. I-I'll come with you."

“Alright. Then let’s stay in a bit longer. I want you to enjoy the bath.”

"Okay," he agreed, calming. "Thank you, Thor." 

Settling once more, Loki curled against his strong body, resting his dark head on his chest, one hand over his heart to keep himself grounded and present here, rather than take off into a darkness he feared. 

Thor cradled him close, idly stroking his clean skin. There was nothing in the world he wanted outside of the warm waters surrounding them both. Loki filled a hole in his heart he hadn’t even noticed growing. 

The warm water, the gentle smells and Thor's soft touches lulled him into something like sleep. He listened to Thor's heart beat beneath his ear, the steady rhythm a quiet lullaby sending him to sleep. 

When the water grew cold, Thor finally woke Loki. 

“Come on, little one. Let’s get a meal in you and get you to bed.”

"Mm." He blinked awake, shivering against him and curling closer to keep warm. "Okay," he agreed, shifting to stand up and get out. 

Thor drained the basin and stood, lifting Loki in his arms. He set him down and passed him a large cloth to dry with. 

He was surprised but not afraid when he picked him up. Loki hummed his thanks and dried off, his dark, wet curls falling around his shoulders. 

“Pick out another tunic. I’ll wash and patch your clothes while you sleep.”

Loki shook his head. "You don't have to do that," he assured. 

“Relax, little one. Let me take care of you.”

Thor dried himself off and headed to his bedroom to dress.

"Okay," he conceded, toddling after with the linens wrapped tightly around him. He opened the chest of drawers and dug through it, pulling a black tunic out and pulled it over his head. "Is this okay?"

“Mmn… black suits you.”

He smiled shyly, pushing his damp curls from his face.

Thor tugged on a loose pair of breeches and a dark red shirt. He sank down on his bed and brushed his wet hair, careful not to tangle it.

Loki turned, watching Thor brush his hair, mesmerized by how it glittered in the evening sun. 

Thor remained oblivious. His eyes were turned up, caught in a shaft of golden light, dazzling in the glow. A bead of stray water rolled down his strong jaw. 

Loki let out a breath, entranced and absolutely trapped where he was, just staring at Thor. Seeing through the dirt and mess of hair, he only got more beautiful. He wondered what he might look like if his beard were shorter. He might even see his lips better and swoon because of it. 

“I feel almost lighter,” Thor breathed, “with my hair tended to. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll even shave.”

"You look very handsome," he nodded. "And still intimidating. Very tough," he assured. 

“That was never a worry Loki.”

Thor turned to look at him. 

“Would you like me to brush your hair as well?”

He felt his heart start to race and he nodded, cheeks pink. "I'd like that very much," he nodded. 

“Come sit between my legs. Face the wall, and tip your head back.”

He obeyed him, taking a moment to climb onto the tall bed. He tipped his head back, shutting his eyes. 

Thor began to brush Loki’s hair with slow, gentle movements. He made sure not to pinch or pull, opting to work through any tangles with his fingers.

Once again, Loki found himself lulled into a quiet, soft place between sleeping and wakefulness. Thor's hands were soothing and gentle, enchanting, even. 

He let out a soft moan, little lips parted, eyes closed. 

Thor’s cock twitched at the sound. His flesh crawled, heat flooding his body. Such an innocent moment, but he couldn’t help himself or the thoughts that flooded his mind. 

His breath came quickly as he lightly scratched Loki’s scalp.

"Mm?" He hummed. "Are you alright?" He said softly. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m… You make noises I like.”

"I do?" He said curiously. "Why do you like them?"

Thor cleared his throat and glanced up at the roof of the cabin. He couldn’t look at Loki and lie. 

“They’re… uh, they’re soothing.”

"Oh," he nodded, facing forward again. Adults were strange, and Thor was no exception. 

“I think that’s good for now. Your hair is beautiful, Loki. We’d better stop, I need to make you dinner.”

He nodded again, hopping onto the floor and going into the front room. 

Thor followed after him, trying to will away his erection. 

“Are eggs okay?”

Anything is perfect," he smiled, wiggling up into the big chair. 

“Good. Eggs it is, then.”

Just as he had when Loki first visited, Thor knelt beside the fire and cooked a large serving of eggs to split between them. It didn’t take long for the cabin to fill with the scent of dinner. 

Loki hummed, his stomach growling, mouth wet and hungry. The soft sounds of cooking, his own breath and the quiet of the woods was so tranquil, more peaceful than anything he'd felt before. 

When they were thoroughly cooked he carried the skillet to the table and served them each a plate. 

He got up to the table, trying to sit on his knees so he could reach and hissing when his bruises flared. 

“Here, let me help.” 

Thor grabbed a few pillows off the chair.

“Sit up, these will ease the pain.”

Loki did as he was asked, leaning against Thor for support as he shuffled around to get them under his knees. 

He looked at Thor as he helped him, their faces close. He smelled so good and his eyes were incredibly intense, focused. Loki forgot what he was doing until Thor looked back at him. 

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“Does that help?” Thor asked. He was still close enough their noses were nearly touching. His hot breath stirred the soft hairs near Loki’s ear. Gods, but he wanted to kiss him. It was an irrational desire, but he couldn’t shake the idea.

Slowly, Loki nodded, goosebumps running up his arms. “Yes. It doesn’t hurt now,” he assured, speaking softly. His large eyes were trained on him with a deep, aged gaze akin to a predator locking onto its prey. It was an old, primal thing that shouldn’t be there with him being so young. 

He pressed a quick kiss to Thor’s cheek, butterfly soft and just as gentle, long eyelashes brushing his skin. He pulled away fast and busied himself in his food, pink to the tips of his ears.

That quick, hungry gaze in Loki’s eyes sent heat straight to Thor’s cock. He stayed close after Loki’s brave kiss, watching him for a few moments, trying to decide what to do. 

And how to handle the need rising within him.

He responded with a kiss to Loki’s cheek in turn, his lips lingering against his flushed skin. 

“Mmn… careful. Don’t make yourself sick.”

With that he went to his own chair and dug into the meal.

He lost his breath when Thor kissed him back, his lips rough against his soft cheek. He swallowed hard, unsure what he was feeling or why, but he liked it. 

“I-I won’t,” he promised, slowing his pace and taking smaller bites.

“Good boy,” Thor purred.

He turned redder, focusing on his food. He felt strange, hot, and being close to Thor just made it worse. His body throbbed as he willed the sensation away, and in doing so, sent the raw desire washing over Thor.

“Fuck…” 

Thor’s jaw hung slack as he took shallow breaths. Every time he raised his eyes to Loki the lust boiled inside him, threatening to drown him. He couldn’t stay at the table. He couldn’t focus on eating. Thor needed to come. Fast.

“Can - can you put yourself to bed? I’m exhausted. Can’t keep my eyes open.”

He reached down and palmed his aching cock through his trousers.

He nodded, surprised, worried he’d upset him somehow. “Yes, I can. I’ll see you later,” he assured, offering a small smile.

As Thor passed to the bedroom he kissed Loki’s hair. “Goodnight, Loki.”

Loki smiled wider at the kiss. “Goodnight, Thor.” 

He excused himself to the bedroom and haphazardly pushed the door closed. His clothes were too tight, too restricting. Thor stripped and tossed them aside. He crawled onto the bed and immediately began pumping his cock, fucking into his palm with desperate abandon.

For a moment, he kept eating, taking what was left on Thor’s plate as he wasn’t one to waste food, and was almost through it when he heard -or did he feel it?- something from the back room.

Loki… If only Thor could taste him. He knew his cock and his small little sac would fit so sweetly in his mouth… Drooling onto his pillow, Thor thrust his hips into his coarse palm. The friction wasn’t enough. 

Loki climbed down from the chair, silently walking down the hall, his body too light and steps too cautious to make noise. He reached the bedroom door and peeked through the crack that was still there. 

Inside he could see Thor, sweating, naked, touching himself with a trembling desperation. Loki watched him as he stroked his thick, heavy cock, his rippling muscles damp with sweat, head thrown back, biting down on his fist to keep any noise to a minimum. 

It was beautiful. Far more angelic and holy than anything he’d experienced in that church, and it stirred something hot deep within Loki’s belly he’d never felt without an overwhelming fear before. 

Beneath the tunic, his cock stiffened, and he squirmed a little, finding the friction exquisite. He folded his lips, wide and dilated eyes locked on Thor. He wanted Thor to keep feeling good, to be satisfied with as much pleasure as he could handle. 

The strange and ancient power Loki possessed unwittingly slithered along the floor, gliding up to where Thor lay and melting into him. He could feel cool little lips on his nipples and a gentle hand massaging his balls, though there was nothing there. 

It had to be his imagination. The first cool touch brushed against his hard nipple and Thor let out a surprised little gasp. The same sensation followed the other. It felt as if two tiny mouths were sucking on his skin. He moaned loudly, eyes rolling back in his head.

As he writhed, Loki slipped his hand beneath his tunic, wrapping his hand around himself. He mimicked Thor’s movements, intensifying what Thor was feeling without knowing it.

Thor’s balls felt heavy and huge in the embrace of the tiny hand. Each gentle cup of the invisible force made his back arch off the bed. 

“Ah! Yes! Loki…”

When he called his name, he jumped, scared for a moment that he saw him. But he hadn’t. He was calling his name because this lust was for him. He wanted him, he wanted to experience this pleasure with him, but he didn’t. He didn’t force it on him, he didn’t make him do anything that might hurt him despite how great his need was. 

He was so grateful for that.

The vision in his mind was simple but powerful. He saw Loki naked before him, rubbing his little tongue along the shaft of his swollen cock. Purple with the rush of blood and close to bursting, Loki’s pale skin stood in stark contrast. 

Each of Loki’s strokes doubled the pleasure of his own. He writhed in ecstasy, practically chanting the boy’s name, until he could take no more.

Thor’s cock pulsed, sending thick ropes of come spattering onto his muscular chest.

His hand didn’t slow.

As Thor writhed he stroked himself faster, the heat building when he came, and from the look of things it had been a long, long time since Thor had come so ferociously. 

He didn’t stop. His cock was still hard, his want still there as he called his name over and over again. He wanted to make him do it again, to come until he couldn’t anymore if that’s what it took to satisfy him. 

The phantom touches moved, slithering beneath his foreskin, sucking on his glans. The mouths on his nipples moved to kiss and bite his neck and his arms, fingers pinching and twisting the pert buds they left behind. 

The hand on his balls gave another urging squeeze, fingertips brushing against the quaking muscle of his hole.

Loki fucked into his hand, beginning to sweat, panting into the door frame.

“Yes… yes, fuck… Loki… oh, Loki…”

Thor spread his legs as wide as they could go. He was desperate to be filled, his body searing beneath the ghost-like caress. He came again, his release hitting the wall behind him. There was no stopping. He wasn’t finished yet.

Years of built up abstinence were eager for relief, driving his overwhelming desire to come and come and come until his balls were empty. He grabbed a pillow and rolled onto his stomach, shoving it against his cock. Thor fucked it rough and fast, rutting along the soft leather.

He bit back a whine, entranced by Thor’s display and the constant need his body held. Loki shuddered, stroking faster. 

Pleasure, pleasure… That’s what Thor wanted, and that’s what he would get. 

The phantom touches returned, gliding between Thor’s cheeks, teasing his hole. Something began working him open, rough and sharp, matching his desperation. 

Thor’s cock was enveloped in something cool, soft and slick that could have been the pillow, but it was consuming. Whatever slime was in this invisible thing twisted along his cock, pulled his foreskin back and traced around his slit.

“Fuck me! Oh, Loki, fuck me,” Thor panted, drooling onto the blankets. He was lost in fantasy - Loki was fingering him open, his green eyes glittering with mischief as Thor pleaded for his cock. The tendrils were just an extension of him, glowing bright as they teased his aching prick.

The slime began to slide inside his slit and Thor came with a ragged, weak sob of ecstasy.

He bit his lip, sliding his hand inside the tunic to tease his own nipples. He pinched and twisted, and the magic teasing Thor's ass was suddenly thick, heavy, and fucking him. 

The tendril in his cock twisted and flicked, gliding in and out of him. 

Something else, something new, teased at his mouth and filled it, fucking every hole he had mercilessly. 

“Glrk! Mmn!”

Thor gagged on the magic appendage fucking into his tight throat. His eyes watered. Tears rolled down his cheeks but his eyes were still back in absolute bliss. He’d never felt anything so exquisite as being tortured to orgasm over and over by the invisible tendrils.

His belly bulged as the one in his ass buried itself deeper, pulsing rhythmically inside him with each hard thrust. He was being consumed in the most base, filthy way and he never wanted it to end.

Drooling openly, Thor came again, his balls trembling with the force as it filled whatever strange power was stuffing his cock. 

Loki was lost, feeling everything Thor was doing to these things, and every sensation made him shake and moan. Thor was too far gone to hear him, or anything else he did. 

He bucked his hips, close to coming without being forced to for the first time. 

The tendril inside Thor's cock pushed against his prostate, pulling all the way out to tease and coax before sliding in and repeating the action. The one in his ass moved harder, deeper, filling him completely while whatever was in his mouth twisted around his tongue as though it were kissing him. 

"Thor!" Loki squeaked, coming hard, his little cock too young to make anything come out, but every appendage in Thor flooded him with icy fluid that he couldn't see, forcing him to empty whatever else might be in his balls. 

It was exactly what Thor needed and far too much all at once. He came with a scream that shook the walls, swallowing every drop of the bitter, frigid slime filling his throat. Convulsing, moaning, he rode out his orgasm even after he blacked out from exertion. 

Such pleasure. Such sights. He’d never forget them. He’d never stop craving the ghostly sensation dominating him.

Any and all evidence of the encounter vanished almost immediately. Loki panted, staggering into the other room and climbing into the chair, where he quickly fell asleep. He didn't know what happened, or what he'd done, but he liked it. He liked every bit of it. 

Thor blacked out until morning, spent and exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c


	7. Tailored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has some textile needs that require intimate help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to check the tags!

He woke with the roosters. Thor’s body ached and hummed in the most pleasant ways, and when he recalled the dreams he blushed furiously. 

He needed to wash Loki’s clothes before any of the other chores. Quietly as he could Thor slipped from his bedroom. He wore only his tunic as he gathered Loki’s clothes from the basket.

Loki was still sound asleep in the chair, cuddling a blanket. The tunic he wore had ridden up, revealing the soft planes of his thighs and just the barest slip of his bottom as he rested innocently. His curls haloed his head, slight legs tangled in the blankets, delicate lips slightly parted in sleep. 

If it weren't for the deep bruising and faint scars, the child looked as pristine as any angel might. 

Thor paused to memorize the sight of him. Loki was so beautiful that he could hardly stand it. The warm light shone on his skin, making him look like a true treasure as he rested. 

As soon as he could, Thor would kill those bastard priests and anyone else who laid a hand on the sweet child before him.

Loki yawned and shifted, trying to cover up against the chill but he was much too tangled to do it properly. He grumbled, curling up in a ball in something of defeat.

“Poor thing,” Thor chuckled. He crossed over to the chair and tucked Loki in properly, nice and snug in his blanket.

Loki cooed, nuzzling toward Thor’s touch with a sleepy smile. “Thor…” He hummed. 

“I’m right here, little one.”

Thor brushed his knuckles against Loki’s cheek. Seeing him, hearing him, he didn’t want to leave - even if he only planned to step outside to do the washing. He sighed and sank down to the floor, sitting beside Loki’s chair.

He chased the touch, humming again, and settled into sleep. He wasn’t out much longer, however, and he opened his eyes to see Thor sitting on the ground, and immediately became confused. 

“Why are you on the ground?” He asked, voice thick with sleep. He sat up a little, head cocked.

“To be closer to you,” Thor teased, smiling. “How did you sleep?”

He blushed a little at the admission, shy, remembering how debauched Thor had been hours ago. He swallowed before he answered. 

"Very well," he nodded. "I was pretty exhausted."

“As was I. I had good dreams though.”

Loki licked his lips, masking his knowing look by faking a yawn. "That's, um, that's good." 

He looked down at the rags in Thor's hands. "Were you going to wash my clothes?" He asked. 

“Yes. But you looked cold, so I stopped to cover you up.”

Thor smiled and brushed Loki’s hair behind his ear. 

“You can keep sleeping.”

He blushed when he touched him, pressing into his hand. "No, I'll come with you," he assured, eager to be close to him. 

“Alright.” Thor lifted him into his arms and carried him out to the pond.

He giggled when he picked him up, hugging around his neck as they walked. 

The warm sunlight filtering through the leaves cast a golden glow on their skin. They could hear birds singing in the trees. It was peaceful, calm, the very image of serenity.

Thor knelt beside the water and let Loki hop down to the damp grass .

Loki sighed, feeling more at peace the moment he touched the soil. It was like fitting into a puzzle, finding the rest of himself simply by being here, with Thor and the woods. The forest prickled and stirred with a phantom breeze, glad to have him there. 

The water in the pond was still littered with ice, the edges lapping against shards in the watery light of the sun. Loki sat on a stone nearby, face turned up to the light with a serene calm. 

"I don't know why everyone is so afraid of the woods," he said softly. 

“It knows the merits of a man’s heart. If they are wicked, the forest hinders their travel and fights to keep them out. That’s why so many have tales of spirits and hauntings - they’re blocked. Denied entry by the very brush itself.”

Loki listened, nodding and he spoke. "The villagers say the opposite. The forest is evil, so only evil things can live there," he shrugged. "The spirits, the monsters here, they're wicked, evil. That's why I can go here and not get hurt. That's why you're here." He sighed, gently toeing the icy water. "I think they're fools."

“They are. Liars too. The church is, at any rate. This place is a sanctuary, it’s always been - a grove fashioned by the gods. The  _ real  _ gods, from before the wars.”

He cocked his head, watching him. "What old gods?"

“The Old Gods came long before man. They rule over our fates, and every aspect of our lives. They shaped the world, all life, light and darkness.”

His brows knitted, listening curiously. "...Are you one?"

Thor let out a soft chuckle as he began to wet Loki’s clothes. 

“No. I don’t think I am. Some people act as though my father was…”

"Your father?" He wondered, watching the ripples move through the pond. 

“His name was Odin, like the Allfather. He had hair as white as snow, and was strong and broad. Villagers were afraid of him. He could be cruel, and strict, but I loved him. He took good care of me.”

He nodded, listening carefully as he spoke, picturing the man that would have been mighty enough to raise Thor. "Where is he now?"

Thor worked soap into Loki’s thin clothes, trying to find the words to explain. It wasn’t easy to put plainly.

“When I was on the cusp of manhood… he walked into the woods and never returned.”

He blinked, frowning. "Oh…" He hopped down off the rock and hugged him from behind. "I won't do that," he promised. 

“Well... thank you, Loki. You have no idea how much that means to me.” 

It was the promise of a child, a promise Thor knew he couldn’t hope to keep. Though a sweet gesture, Loki would grow and wander - it was inevitable. He wouldn’t stay.

Loki pressed a kiss to the middle of his back and went to sit on the rock again. 

As Thor washed the clothes, they fell apart. The weak and weary seams gave up, as if the dirt had been keeping them together. 

“Oh, Hel… Loki, your trousers…” Thor frowned and sat back on the grass.

His face fell, visibly wilting as the rags came apart. "Oh… It, um, it's alright."

It wasn’t fair. Loki deserved sturdy clothes, new clothes, not rags that wouldn’t survive a light rain. At least he could clean the green tunic.

“I can buy you new ones! We can go into town and find the tailor.”

"Y-you don't have to do that. Clothes are expensive," he mumbled.

“Alright… how about I make you clothes then? They’ll be more durable than anything we could get in town.”

He blushed furiously. "You're sure? That, that's too generous I dunno where to begin paying you back for that…"

“Just be with me for a while. Your company is worth more than coins, Loki, I think I’ve said as much before.”

"I can do that," he assured, sitting on the grass beside him despite the chill to his pale legs.

As he set to washing Loki’s tunic, he thought of measuring the boy for the leather. How he’d have to touch him, to slide his fingers along his groin… Thor had to fight back a hungry whine.

Thor scrubbed the shirt well and rinsed it as carefully as he could. All he needed to do was hang it up on a branch and let the sun dry it out. He didn’t want to move just then, though - he liked having Loki beside him, quietly enjoying their morning.

He leaned his head against Thor's side, content and quiet, looking out across the water while the sun lit his face. He felt so safe. He even felt wanted. 

“I love this. It’s perfect.” Thor wrapped his arm around Loki and pulled him close.

He cooed looking up at him with soft, warm eyes, clear adoration in them. 

“Mmn… you are truly beautiful, Loki.”

He blinked, surprised. "O-oh. I am?"

Thor nodded and held his gaze. “More beautiful than anyone I’ve ever seen. I like having you with me.”

"But I'm…" He'd heard so many things about himself, terrible things, about how his looks were a sin, his eyes wicked, his smile likened to the devil himself… "I'm not… Everything about me is shameful," he muttered.

“Beautiful hair,” Thor said, kissing the crown of his head.

“Beautiful eyes,” Thor said, kissing Loki’s closed lids.

“Beautiful nose,” Thor said, kissing the very tip.

“Mmn… Beautiful smile.”

He pressed a kiss to the tip of his finger, then gently touched Loki’s mouth with it. Sweet, innocent, removing the temptation to kiss the boy until neither of them could breathe.

“Yes. According to my calculations, you. Are. Beautiful.”

He cooed with each soft touch, staring up at Thor with wide eyes. "Th-thank you," he said, lips still tingling from the touch. "Thank you, Thor."

“You don’t need to thank me, little one. It’s the truth.”

He giggled. "Well, I want to."

“Alright. You’re welcome, then.” 

Thor stood up and hung Loki’s green tunic on a nearby branch. 

“Would you like breakfast?”

He pushed himself up and followed him. "Yes, I would," he smiled. 

Once inside, Thor set about making steak and toast. He cooked with skill and ease, never faltering, never so much as burning the bread. When it was finished he drizzled sauce from a small bottle over the meat and buttered the bread, serving each of them a plate.

Loki was salivating, watching him cook with wide eyes, itching to get his hands on the delicious food. He'd only dreamed about such delicious things. He climbed up to the table, waiting politely to eat. 

“Go ahead, Loki.”

He began to eat, ravenous, and drowning in how good it all was. He groaned, eating happily. 

“How is it?” Thor asked as he cut into his steak.

"Amazing," he gushed, swallowing a mouthful. 

“I’m glad.”

Thor ate, smiling at Loki when his mouth wasn’t full. It was a good breakfast, a good start to the day.

He sucked sauce from his thumb, groaning. "Thank you very much," he smiled. 

“What would you like to do today?”

"I dunno. I'm usually hiding, looking for food, cleaning the church…" he said, staring at his plate. "Did you want to measure me for my clothes?" He asked. 

“That’s a good idea. Come to the foyer - you’ll need to undress for this, so the fire will keep you warm.”

He obeyed, wiggling off the seat and hurried to the foyer, carefully stripping the tunic off himself.

Thor took a piece of charcoal and followed him. “Arms out, legs spread, please.”

He did as he asked, smiling gently at him. 

Thor began with his arms. He slid his hands among his skin, making gentle marks at the length of each fingertip. Two and a half hands for each of his arms. Four for his chest. Thor let his fingers caress his nipples, just a bare touch, before moving to measure around his waist.

Loki shut his eyes, losing himself in the soft caresses of Thor's large, rough hands that felt so exquisite against his skin. He let out a soft hum when his nipples were touched, doing what he could so his body didn't react. 

Swallowing, Thor began to measure his legs. Everything was simple until he had to do the inseam.

“I’m going to have to touch your cock, Loki, to be sure I don’t make your trousers too tight. Is that okay?”

He swallowed, blushing furiously. "Y-yes. Thank you, um, for asking."

Thor placed his hand on Loki’s inner thigh and slowly dragged it toward his groin. His palm cupped his cock and balls, hand massive in comparison. He couldn’t help himself - he kneaded gently, savoring the softness of Loki’s skin. 

Measuring correctly was important. That was all. Thor wasn't above lying to himself. 

Loki held his breath, blushing all the way to his chest. He knew this was how these things were done, but did it have to feel so good?

He swallowed roughly, letting out a soft moan when Thor's massive, warm hand squeezed him. His little cock twitched in his palm, his breaths sharp and tight. 

Thor raised his eyes to Loki’s. He rolled his balls in his hand, holding his gaze, heart racing in his chest. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Loki’s navel.

“Still okay?”

He trembled. "Oh… I-I'm okay, yes," he assured, knees shaking. 

“Does this feel good?”

Slowly, gently, Thor began to stroke his little cock. 

"Y-yes," he stammered. He moaned a little more, squirming slightly. He was worried he was reading this all wrong. Maybe Thor was simply doing what tailors often did, or perhaps he was still asleep and this was a dream. "Thor…?" 

“I’m sorry,” Thor whispered. “You… you made such a pretty noise, and I… I want to make you feel good. I don’t know how to explain it.”

He nipped at his hips, breath hot against his skin.

“You’ve been abused. Hurt. Taken advantage of. I want to spoil you, to show you that in caring hands… you can feel good. Loki, I want to erase what the priests have done to you. Even if it’s just this once, this stolen moment… I want to please you.”

He stared at him, listening, not understanding but craving what he said. He wanted it, wanted Thor and all he just promised, and he wanted it right now. 

He nodded, reaching out and touching his hair, cock stiff, eyes wide, hungry. "I...I want you to," he breathed. "I want, I want to know what it's like."

With Loki’s permission Thor sank down and buried his face against Loki’s groin. He took a deep breath, savoring the scent of his skin. A shudder crept down his spine. Still gently kneading his balls, Thor opened his mouth and dragged his tongue along Loki’s shaft. He lapped at his cock with a low moan.

Loki whimpered, shaking under his touch and still unsure. Past events told him to run, to be afraid, to cry. But Thor wasn't going to hurt him. He knew that instinctively, but his heart still pounded heavily against his ribs. 

He kept his hands in Thor's hair, closing his eyes and focusing solely on his touch, his mouth, and the pleasure that followed. He moaned, lashes fluttering, hips twitching. It felt incredible. 

Thor peeled back Loki’s foreskin and ran his tongue beneath it, flicking the top against the ridge of his head. 

"Mm!" His body jolted with pleasure, a tremble in his legs all due to bliss. His fears had evaporated entirely, consumed by Thor's calming presence and exquisite mouth. His little fingers lightly pulled his hair, desperation growing. 

"Thor! O-oh…" 

Humming, Thor took his cock and sac into his mouth. It was easy - Loki’s youth meant he was small enough to fit. He sucked slowly, letting his eyes flutter closed.

He let out a breath, gripping his head and thrusting into his lips weakly. "Thor, Thor, oh, god, it feels so good! Mmn!"

Thor moaned around him and held still, letting Loki fuck his mouth. He slid a hand up his stomach and gently squeezed his nipple. There was nothing he wanted more than to teach Loki how to take control of his body.

He buckled, nearly collapsing under the intensity of being touched so wonderfully. He nearly fell, only caught by Thor's strong hand on his hip to keep him upright. 

Thor took a little more initiative and started to bob his head. His tongue slid over every inch of Loki’s skin, lifting his balls, teasing his little slit. All that mattered was Loki’s pleasure.

Loki came suddenly and without any real warning, bliss and ecstasy overtaking him. He tensed, letting put a sharp squeak, deliciously overwhelmed, his little cock pulsing though nothing came out. 

Though he was loathe to stop, Thor pulled off him. He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of Loki’s cock and helped him stand back up.

“Was that okay? Did you like that?”

He nodded, panting and leaning against his body for support. "I, I liked it very much," he said softly. 

Thor reached up and pulled Loki into his lap. He held him close, rocking him gently, rubbing his hands over his sweat-slicked skin. 

“I’m glad. You deserve to feel good, to feel safe. To be pampered.”

He held onto him, face pressed into his neck. No pain, no shame, no tears just...just Thor. He curled against him, clinging to him with all he had.

“That’s it. I’ve got you, Loki. Just rest. Just relax.”

"I, I didn't know it could be nice," he whispered. 

“It can be. And if… if you hadn’t told me about what the priests do to you, I wouldn’t - I wouldn’t attempt to do anything. As beautiful as you are, adults shouldn’t be sexual with children. But after all you’ve been through, you deserve to know a loving touch. You deserve to feel good, Loki.”

“They do it because I need to be cleansed,” he informed, speaking as though this were all fact to be adhered to. “That’s what they tell me. That I’m, I’m evil and that’s the only way to fix it.” His voice cracked a little and he laid his head back down on his shoulder. 

“I don’t know what they want from me. I don’t know how to make them stop.” 

“They’re using you. They’re fucking you because they want to, not because they’re ‘cleansing’ you. There’s nothing you need to atone for. Gods, I’m going to tear them to pieces…”

He flinched at his harshness, feeling stupid, tricked. He thought he was clever, thought he may have been smarter than them, but… He was just a stupid child for them to use as they wished. And he’d let them, because he hadn’t been smart enough to know what was happening to him. 

He hung his head, hugging himself. 

“Loki, I’m not mad at you. You know that, right? I’m furious at these charlatans taking advantage of you. You couldn’t have known, not with all the lies they were feeding you.”

He looked at him through his lashes, sniffling, and shrugged a little. “I thought I was smarter than that,” he whispered.

“You’re still smart. You want to be loved. Cared for. That’s not a flaw.”

“Doesn’t seem to be doing me any favors,” he said, swallowing. “I don’t know why they hate me. I didn’t ask to be born. Or...whatever I was.”

“No one is. There is no fault within you, little one.”

He was quiet for a moment, staring at his hands. “Do you think I had a mother?” He asked, looking up at him. “And...and if I did...what happened to her? Why did she leave me?”

“Everyone has a mother. I think… I think perhaps she couldn’t care for you. Not that she didn’t want to, but she wasn’t able to. Maybe she left you with the village in the hopes someone there could. That’s my guess, at least.”

“She didn’t leave me with the village,” he explained. “She left me in the snow.” He grew quiet again. 

The things he vaguely remembered, or dreamt, about his coming to the village all blurred into nonsense. Shadows and voices he didn’t know and couldn’t understand, a place he couldn’t really see. It was too cold, too red, and he was afraid. He was crying, someone else was screaming-- Then he was staggering into Sir Volstagg’s arms, the warmth shocking him into reality.

He shook his head, clearing it all away. “It doesn’t matter,” he said quietly. “I’m here now. I can’t undo anything.”

Thor ran his hands through Loki’s hair, a small frown on his lips. She left him in the cold? What mother would do that? It sounded far too cruel.

“I’m sorry, Loki. I really am.”

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, chewing his lip. 

“Loki… you could live here. With me.”

He looked up at him, eyes wide. “Really? I-- They won’t let me. They won’t let me leave. They’ll come here, with more than just them this time.” 

“I’m not going to let them. I’m going to make sure they pay for what they’ve done.”

“They will bring every able bodied man in the village. They’ll kill you, Thor, and for nothing more than, than keeping me here. I can’t...I can’t let you die for me. Father Ebony told me what would happen if I tried to run away, if I tried to stay away from the church… He’d rather burn the forest and the village to the ground than let me go somewhere else.”

“I… fuck. Alright.” Thor sighed. There was no way he’d come live with him. Loki always had a reason, an excuse as to why it couldn’t happen.

“Maybe...maybe we can find another way,” he said softly. “Maybe there’s something else we can do to make him let me go.”

“I can think of something,” Thor said quietly.

“Is it killing them? Cause that’s messy and could still get you killed.”

“It won’t. I just have to be careful. I do have a plan, Loki.”

He nodded a little. “Okay,” he conceded.

“...May I kiss you?”

“You...want to kiss me?” He asked, blinking up at him.

Thor nodded. “I want to kiss you very badly, Loki.”

“Yes. You, you can kiss me,” he whispered.

Thor cupped Loki’s sharp cheek in one large hand and tilted his head up. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Loki’s. Beneath his beard they were soft and large, warm to the touch.

Loki looked up, expression soft and open, completely vulnerable. When their lips met he cooed, melting into his hand. He kissed him back the softness of his touch sending a shiver down his spine he openly shook with. After a long moment he giggled, pulling back. 

“Your beard tickles,” he laughed.

“I’ll shave it today,” Thor promised.

He shook his head. “You don’t have to do that,” he promised.

“I’ve been putting it off for weeks. Don’t worry, it’s my choice.”

“Okay,” he said, chewing his lip. “Can, um, I put my clothes back on if you’re done? It’s cold,” he giggled.

“Oh! Yes! Of course you can, little one. I’m sorry.”


	8. Dreams of Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some prep work for Loki’s new clothes, Thor and his little ward take a well-deserved nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dreams are said to be portals to our deepest imaginations. For Loki and Thor, their dreams are a bridge to past lives and hidden desires. 
> 
> And a way for us to have good smut without them actually having sex :3c

"Let me write your measurements down real quick and then you may.” 

Thor set Loki down and quickly marked the measurements on the edge of the kitchen table.

He pulled the tunic back on, still marked in charcoal, and followed Thor over to the table. “Now what do you do?” He asked. 

“Now I double the measurements and cut them out of the leather stored in the shed. For the pants at least - wool for the shirt. I’ll have to take it to town to have it spun, but the pants we can do here.”

He grinned excitedly, bouncing a little on his heels. "I can't wait!" He beamed. "Can I help?"

“Of course. You can help me sew - and carry the leathers in. Follow me.”

Thor headed back outside, to the shed.

He toddled after him, excited to help and have things all his own. He bumped into him when they reached the shed, then giggled. "Sorry," he grinned. 

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.”

Thor opened the shed. Inside the door sat a candle on a shelf. He reached for it from memory and lit it, shedding light through the wooden interior. 

“Okay. Here we are.”

Loki stared around at the furs and pelts, touching a few with gentle fingers. Without the blood and bone and gore, he didn't mind them at all. 

He lifted four tanned deer hides and passed two to Loki.

“You’re small, so we don’t need too much.”

He took the hides Thor gave him, still beaming with pride and pure happiness. 

“Lead the way back to the house, little one. I’ll follow you.”

"Okay!" He hurried out of the shed, hurrying back to the house to keep up with Thor's much larger strides. 

Inside, Thor laid his leathers on the table. As Loki watched he took the charcoal and began to measure them the same way he measured Loki - by lengths of his hand.

Loki dragged a kitchen chair over and stood on it so he could see properly. He smiled, watching Thor work with blatant admiration in his eyes. 

Thor brought out his knife and began to cut along the lines he’d drawn. He was focused and careful, following along with steady strokes. One leg, then a second, and a shape for the groin to connect them.

"It's amazing. How you do that," he said softly, genuinely amazed. "I tried to sew a hole in my shirt once and I just poked myself a lot." 

“I’ll teach you how to sew safely. I can even spare a thimble for you, to protect your finger.”

"What's a thimble?' He asked, head cocked. 

“It’s a little metal cup you put on your finger when you sew. It stops the needle from pricking you when you pierce the material.”

"Oh. That's a funny thing to call it, then," he said. 

“I don’t know where the word comes from.”

He shrugged. "Why wouldn't you just call it a finger cup?" He wondered. 

“You could call it that,” Thor suggested.

"Then I will," he smiled. "I'd like to learn how to use a finger cup!" 

“Alright. We’re ready to start sewing, so…”

Thor took the pieces to the living room and set them on the floor. He took his kit off a shelf and sat down beside them.

“Come join me.”

Loki sat beside Thor, smiling warmly and eager to learn. "Okay, I'm ready to learn," he nodded.

The first thing Thor taught Loki was how to thread the leather cord through the specialized needle. The thin leather strips were far stronger than string, and leather pants needed the extra hold. Next he handed him a thimble and taught him how to protect himself with it.

Actually sewing was a few steps down the line but Thor was patient.

It took him a few tries to properly thread the needle, and his fingers were too small for the thimble but he did his best, following Thor's instructions to the letter. 

“There, see? You’re getting the hang of this.”

He grinned up at him. "Thank you," he said proudly.

They continued through the process, Thor guiding Loki through the basics of hand sewing while he did the more complicated work. It was a strain on his tired eyes and weary fingers, but Loki was so eager and happy to be with him. It didn't matter if his back hurt or not; Loki's smile was worth every bit of it. 

"There. I think that's enough for today," he said, looking at their nearly finished project. "Tomorrow you can try them on and we'll fit them properly." 

Loki smiled, his fingers numb from all the work. "Okay! That was fun, Thor. Thank you.".”

“You’re very welcome. Would you like to take a nap before dinner?”

He nodded. "I'd like that very much," he smiled. 

Thor lifted Loki and set him in the chair. He tucked him in and pressed a soft kiss to his nose.

“If you wake up before me, come get me up.”

"Can...can I come with you?" He squeaked out. 

“Hmn… Sure. I don’t see why not.”

He picked Loki back up and carried him to the bedroom. Once inside he closed the door and gently lowered him to the bed.

“I sleep naked, is that okay?”

Loki hugged him, not wanting to be alone. He snuggled under the blankets, shutting his eyes. 

"Mmhm, that's okay."

Thor stripped his clothing and climbed in beside him.

“My offer still stands. If you wake before me, make sure to wake me up.”

Loki nodded, smiling sleepily. "I will. Promise," he assured. He curled up against him, resting his head on his chest. 

Humming, Thor stroked his hair. He was grateful for their difference in size - if Loki were taller, he’d be able to tangle his legs with Thor’s and feel his hard cock against him. As it was, his arousal was secret and safe.

“Goodnight, Loki.”

He cooed, warm and safe in Thor's arms. Part of him wished he were bigger, so he could hold Thor properly, but this was nice and would have to do for now. 

"Good night, Thor," he mumbled, drifting off to sleep. 

It didn’t take long for Thor to drift into unconsciousness too.

* * *

A dream began to form behind his eyes, a wintry landscape that bit at his very skin. He radiated warmth, golden hair braided and bound over his shoulder, fighting through the blizzard. Dressed in shining armor, a heavy cape over his shoulders, he looked and felt every bit a warrior. The shadow of a word fluttered through his mind -  _ Aesir _ . 

He was seeking something. A weapon? An artifact? Something priceless, held in the depths of the frozen wastes. A castle of black stone rose into his vision, across the icy field. There. Whatever it was, it had to be there. 

Loki didn’t know how, or why, but he found himself traveling elsewhere to dream. He was sharing...something, something important, with Thor. He’d no idea what and at this stage he had no means to question it all, or to control what was happening, not really. 

Snow. Ice. A frigid air that should cut him to the bone and render him lifeless in minutes with how he was dressed, and yet he didn’t feel a thing. The wind was gentle on his skin, the air no more uncomfortable than a spring day. He felt complete, whole, and at home.

He stood tall, black glass walls surrounding him in glorious architecture, ancient, strong and unyielding. His red eyes glowed in the dim light, his skin a deep, heavy blue etched in white markings that signified his bloodline. 

_ Jotun…  _

The word meant something, but it was too far away for him to grasp. 

His long, dark hair flowed freely down his shoulders and around a golden circlet on his head, a dark green cloak on his shoulders with a dense fur collar and long cloth on his hips was all he had to cover himself. 

He felt the Aesir boy coming, and knew precisely what he was after. The casket beneath the throne he was draped on ignited with a flick of his wrist, sending white light shooting through the entire palace. The sconces on the walls rushed to life with blue flame, guiding the warrior right to him. 

Lights drew Thor’s attention. He followed them, grateful for any semblance of guidance the cold palace gave. Through the huge gate, into the halls, his bright blue eyes following the trail left by the sconces… Finally he entered the throne room. It was far less cold here, out of the storm, but still cold enough that without his cloak he knew he’d freeze. 

Sitting on the massive throne was a creature so beautiful he nearly forgot to breathe. Blue skin, jet black hair, a small smile touching its lips. Did… Did he come to find him? Thor wasn’t sure. All he knew was he ached to touch him, to kneel before his majesty. Heat surged through him, sweat beading on his tanned skin. 

Swallowing, Thor continued forward, his eyes locked on the king.

Loki grinned, smelling the man’s desire from where he sat. 

“Well, well,” he hummed, his voice filling the hall. “To what do I owe the pleasure of such company? I must confess you find me unprepared for your arrival, your highness. I’ve no guards about to arrest you for trespassing, no army to stop you from taking what you seek… Just me. And you.” 

He lazily drew fingers through his hair, idly playing with his own curls. “I will say, it’s either very brave or very foolish of you to come alone, my dear. With your empire, your power, I thought you’d come armed to the teeth ready for blood. And yet…” He looked at him, a question in his searing gaze.

“I’m… not afraid. Inside I know I should be but I could feel you from the forests. From the fields. There’s no malice, no fury, no anger in you. Just curiosity. I came for the treasure In your vaults but that - that isn’t enough. There’s something worth far more in your palace.”

Thor came to a stop a few feet from the throne. He met Loki’s gaze, his own awed and reverent.

“You. I can feel this heat inside me, this sureness - You are the rarity here. You are more powerful than your trinkets. And you… You are why I’m here. I feel like I know you, like I…”

Loki’s smile faded, listening to the prince with a growing admiration. That tickle in the back of his mind, threatening to warm his heart to him as it wanted to, grew stronger, and he allowed some of it to bleed through. 

He stood, taking the few steps down to the base of the throne where Thor stood, placing a finger under his chin. “Like you what, highness?”

“Like I crave you,” Thor breathed.

Thor licked his lips, wondering how the King’s cool skin might taste. His body ached for him, his soul longed to meld into the giant’s, his hands itched to touch him. 

Loki brushed his thumb beneath his lips, watching him with glittering eyes now sparked with hunger. “You’ve come to submit to me, then?” He said softly. “To give yourself rather than take from me, from my people?” 

“Yes. Yes, I have. I, Thor Odinson, rightful King of Asgard, am here to give myself to you.”

Loki grinned. “I accept.” 

Slowly, he pulled Thor into a deep, lingering kiss, one hand on his throat, the other on his waist. 

Thor moaned and melted against him. He was pliant beneath Loki’s touch, submitting himself to him entirely. He slid his hand up along Loki’s bared stomach, his touch searing.

He growled, gripping his hip tighter, pulling him closer. “I can smell the arousal on you, Odinson. I can taste it in the air. Your hunger is delicious, did you know that?” He latched onto his neck, marking him as his. As he sucked on his flesh, a gentle wave of magic flooded over him, warding him against the cold and keeping him comfortable. 

He broke away, inhaling deeply up to the hollow behind his ear. “If you were any more eager to be fucked you would’ve walked in here with your arse out and spread for me,” he chuckled. He plucked the cape from Thor’s shoulders, running open palms down his back and feeling him through his armor.

It took all of Thor’s focus to remain standing. His cock ached against his armor, hard and dripping. He’d never wanted anything as badly as he wanted to be fucked by the king before him. Moaning, he bared his throat, lashes fluttering closed.

“Name… your name, I need to know it…”

What else would he cry when those slender fingers pierced his cunt? 

“Beg me for it, pet,” he hummed, cupping him through his armor and applying the barest pressure to him. 

“A-Ah… please, please my lord! Let me know your name, that I may chant it like a prayer when you’re buried inside me…”

“That’s a good boy,” Loki hummed, dragging the sharp nail of his thumb over his Adam’s apple. “My name is Loki.”

“Loki,” Thor breathed. “Loki… please don’t stop. I’ll do anything, anything you ask of me, just. Touch me more.”

He hummed, delighted, and ran his hand down Thor’s body. As he did, his armor fell away, leaving him in just his underclothes. He smiled, gripping his cock through his pants and slowly stroking him, sucking at his earlobe as he moved.

Thor panted as Loki’s hand caressed him. Low moans slipped from his throat. All he’d wanted was to be touched, to feel Loki’s hand on his cock. Even over his clothing it drove him wild. He thrust weakly into Loki’s hand, his body trembling with naked lust. 

“How long has it been?” He purred. “Since someone touched you? Since someone had you so completely? Have you ever been so vulnerable, your highness?” He spoke gently, his free hand sliding down the back of his pants to grip his arse in firm hands.

“Several hundred years,” Thor admitted. “I’ve been alone for a very long time, my lord. Oh… yes, Gods, I love the way you touch me…”

He let out a needy whine, rocking back into Loki’s grip.

Loki hummed, slipping his pants down to free his cock. He fell to his knees, parting his lips. “Such a pretty little thing…” He cooed. “A shame you’ve been alone for so long. How could someone like you be so alone?” 

While Thor answered, he took his cock into his cold mouth.

“No one… no one wants me… ah, Loki…”

He hummed, taking him deep and bobbing his head back and forth. He tasted so sweet, his skin supple and warm and unlike anything he’d ever had before. He pulled off, catching his breath, smirking. “I want you,” he assured. “And now you’re mine. No one else can have you ever, ever again.”

“Really? You… you want me? Just because I came here looking for you?”

Thor reached down and caressed Loki’s long, soft hair. How could someone so beautiful want him? With all his power, Loki could have anyone.

He hummed, pressing into his hand, still smiling up at him. “No, my dear. That yearning you felt, that familiar longing, that desperation that still lingers in you now? That’s fate, my sweet. I feel it too, and I’m not one to defy the Gods nor the stars that they align for us.” 

Loki kissed his hip and took him down his throat again, urging him to fuck his throat and allow himself the pleasures he’d been missing. 

Despite his fears Thor pressed forward, forcing his cock a little deeper down Loki’s throat. Fate… was that truly the force binding them? He couldn’t explain it, but this felt  _ right _ . No matter how unworthy Thor felt, some power brought him to Loki with longing in his heart.llp

He hooked one of Thor’s legs over his shoulder, his fingers trailing up to the soft pink muscle he bared. He smirked around his cock, rolling his fingertip against it, massaging gently to relax and open him for him. 

“Gods… yes, Loki…”

“Come,” he growled. “I can feel you throbbing, I can hear the hitch in your chest as you try to hold back. Don’t. Come down my throat so the real fun can begin…” 

Thor didn’t need much coaxing. He thrust forward, fucking Loki’s throat. He came in seconds, spilling down his cool throat.

Loki groaned in pure ecstasy, swallowing every drop. He stood and plucked Thor off the ground, carrying him easily into the next room. He wasn’t too much bigger than Thor was, but large enough that holding him required next to nothing. 

He brought him into an adjacent room that lit up upon his entry. The lights within the walls ignited the ornate carvings in them, the lights shifting from a bright, warm yellow to a pale green, moving like they were alive. 

At the center of the room was a large altar made of the same black glass, radiating an ancient, sacred energy that pounded through the walls, the floor and their veins. 

Loki set Thor on the altar, kissing him softly, carefully removing the cloak from his shoulders. He pulled Thor to the edge of the slab, bringing their bodies together as they kissed.

Thor stripped his undershirt, tossing it aside and pressing his bare chest to Loki’s. He moaned into his mouth and clung to him, sliding his hands along the muscles of his back. Without any hesitation Thor hooked his legs around Loki’s waist.

Loki touched every bit of Thor he could reach, sliding his hands along his searing skin and thick muscles, groaning. He ground their hips together, moving to kiss his throat again and apply more bruises there. 

“So beautiful…” He whispered, slapping the firm flesh of Thor’s ass. “Gods, how I want you. I’ve dreamt of you, I’ve waited for you, and now that you’re here I’m afraid I’ll tear you apart from lust alone.” 

“And if that’s what I want as well?” Thor whispered. “What if I want you to break me?”

He chuckled, cupping his cheek. “My darling, how could I possibly? Only having you one night and waiting another eternity to have you again? I’m far too selfish for that.” 

“At the very least, don’t be  _ too  _ gentle. Please. I feel as if I’ve waited my whole life to be yours.”

“Oh, I don’t plan to. You won’t soon forget that you’re mine, highness.” He pushed Thor down onto the slab, kissing up his stomach to his breasts, where he sucked and bit at the tender flesh.

“Oh, Loki, yes… I love the way your mouth feels…” 

Thor tipped his head back and focused on the feel of Loki’s teeth against his nipples.

Loki suckled like a starved babe, moaning and humming against his breasts greedily. 

Panting, drooling, Thor cradled Loki’s head to his chest. 

“That’s it,” he purred. “Nurse as much as you want. My body is yours.”

In a flash of magic, his fingers were slicked and parting Thor’s legs, pressing against his hole and working to breach him. 

He pressed back against Loki’s hand, desperate to be filled. His muscle opened for his slender fingers, hot and twitching around them.

The moment he was granted entrance, Loki began fucking Thor’s tight cunt with vigor, twisting against his walls, searching for his nerves while he bit down on the pert bud beneath his tongue.

“Fuck! Mmn, Loki, there - there, yes, don’t stop!”

Thor’s spine curved hard as he rode out Loki’s thrusts, his head swimming with pleasure.

Loki groaned, releasing his nipples and instead moved down to kiss and bite his hips and his stomach, cold skin brushing against the base of his cock while his hair curtained around him like a shroud. “So tight...and so wet and eager for me… What a sight you are, your highness.” 

“Please don’t make me wait. Please, Loki… My cunt aches for you, longs for your cock to split it wide…”

“How could I deny such pretty words?” He purred. He quickly withdrew his fingers, letting a shock of magic rock through Thor that opened him entirely for him. He pressed his cock into him, gasping as he breathed his searing hole and rested inside his body. “Oh… Oh, my sweet, you are just perfect…”

Thor’s eyes rolled back in pleasure. His hole twitched around Loki’s thick cock, savoring the feeling of being full. He’d never been fucked before - the foreign feeling of a cock stretching him wide sent shivers down his spine. He started to rock on his own, pushing further down, forcing his cunt to swallow every inch.

Loki chuckled, watching him writhe with a deep, warm satisfaction. “Beautiful,” he whispered, sliding his hand down his body. “Have you been filled before, my dear?” 

He asked, staring down at him and refusing to move, watching Thor fuck himself with glee.

“No… this, this is my first time being fucked…"

Thor started to move faster. He rolled his hips in eager circles, slamming down against Loki’s thighs. He couldn’t get enough of the way he felt.

He moaned, low and deep, the sound rattling the very walls of the room, a grin spread over his face. “And a virgin at that. Why didn’t I find you sooner?” Finally, he snapped his hips forward, thrusting into Thor’s tight body with a cry. He watched him quake with a deep, needy hunger that resonated in the core of his being. 

Thor cried out in ecstasy, wrapping his arms around Loki’s neck and holding on for dear life as his thrusts rocked his muscular body. He couldn’t stem the flow of mewling whines that each rough snap of his hips coaxed from his throat. He’d never felt more complete - or more alive, being fucked by the beautiful Jotun king.

Outside, the skies rumbled with thunder and sharp bolts of lightning. Loki grinned as sheets of ice rained down on the palace. He fucked Thor faster, leaning down to steal the air from his lungs in a long, needful kiss. 

His hands roamed his soft, hot flesh, his own body pulsing with new heat, and a new fervor he could have never anticipated. Thor’s helpless noises mimicked his own, his desperate and aching body now flush with his. 

Power flowed through Thor. He barely heard the thunder over the sound of Loki’s heavy breaths. He’d never experienced anything as viscerally satisfying as being fucked by him. There was no rapture beyond his arms, no pleasure outside of their bodies pressed together. 

“Ah, ah, fuck, I’m going to come in you,” he snarled. “Gods, you’ll be lucky if I ever stop. We won’t leave this chamber until one of us is with child. Oh, my sweet, sweet prince, you feel better than anything in these realms!” 

“Do it,” Thor panted. “Breed me, Loki! Fill my belly with your seed, force me to give you an heir!”

He slammed into him, over and over until the rock beneath them creaked. He snapped his hips, hard, and came with a shout of his name and a flash of lightning as well as his own magic. 

Thor’s thick cock spilled between them, covering their bellies with his release. He cried out as waves of electricity rolled through him, his own power manifest as his orgasm tore through him.

Loki watched Thor’s eyes spark and glow with unbridled power, shuddering as the lightning tore through him and the chamber itself. The thunder outside rattled the walls again. Loki grinned, collapsing over him and kissing him hungrily. “What a curious thing you are,” he grinned.

“Mmn…”

Thor melted against his lips. He hadn’t had enough. He wanted  _ more _ . More of Loki, more of his seed.

“Is that good or bad?”

“Oh, I think it’s very good,” he hummed, kissing along his throat. 

“This place, this room, is sacred. And can only be entered with someone of royal blood,” he explained. “And I brought you here to make you mine, and to also give over everything to you. I mean you are mine in every way, and now the kingdom is open to you. You are of our lineage now. Part of me just as my arm is. And I of you. 

“I know you have a home elsewhere, and you are welcome to come and go as you please. So long as you come back here, back to me. I’d miss you terribly otherwise,” he smiled. 

“I will,” Thor replied. “I will return. How could I stand to be apart from you for long? I felt it even before you touched my face - that we were meant to be this. We were meant to be one. In body, in spirit, in soul.”

“Know that no matter what happens, no matter the realm, the lifetime, any splinter of reality there is, I will always find you. We will always be together. It's an inescapable, beautiful, perfect fate.” He kissed him deeply again, holding the back of his head.

Thor kissed him back, squeezing him with his thighs. The cool touch of Loki’s skin echoed inside him, a wintry pulse filling him again and again. The Sun and The Snow, frost and flame, the mingling of their very essences.

Loki reveled in his warmth, his fire, letting the flames douse him and burn him without an ounce of complaint or regret. His every being belonged with and to him and to only this man would he ever, ever surrender himself. Thor was the light he’d been looking for, the sun breaking through the bleak winter and restoring what faith he had in the universe. 

Happiness. He’d found his happiness. 

He opened his mouth to speak again, nuzzling in Thor’s neck when something sharp, violent and blinding tore through his body, and then the world itself. Everything went white while searing agony enveloped him and--

* * *

Loki woke with a cry, shaking and looking around wildly for...for… He couldn’t remember.

The sound brought Thor to waking. He turned toward it, rubbing his eyes. 

“Mmf? Is everything okay?”

He looked at Thor, something heavy tugging in his chest. A dream. Whatever terror he found had just been a dream. He swallowed, wiping his face free of sweat and tears. “Y-yes. Yes, just a, um...an odd dream,” he said softly, lying back down. “I’m sorry.”

Thor could feel the remnants of his own release, sticky on his skin. 

“You don’t need to apologize. Anything I can do to help?”

He swallowed, pressing his soft cheek against his chest as his breathing evened and the rest of his fear faded away. "I just want you to hold me. Please?”

“Of course.”


	9. Gentle Rivers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their strange, intertwining dreams, Thor and Loki go catch their dinner and attempt to ignore the ever-still burning desires they feel.

To soothe the trembling child, Thor pulled Loki to his chest, holding him close. He rubbed his back gently, his heart beating faster. Having Loki so close felt like home.

Being so close to Thor, Loki could feel the sweat on his skin, hear the rough beating of his heart and see how flushed he was. The scent of him was intoxicating, but he kept that to himself. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I just… I had a very good dream.”

He giggled. “So you’re all sweaty?” He asked, missing the implication.

Thor blushed and looked away.

“It… was a sexual dream,” he admitted. “A very good one.”

Loki blinked, keeping most of his shock inward. He’d had one much the same, and it was strange Thor had as well. He swallowed.

“Oh. Well, um, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he offered, smiling gently up at him, not wanting to embarrass him more.

“I’m sorry. I… I know that’s probably not making you feel safer.”

Thor closed his eyes, fighting back the shame and sadness threatening to overwhelm him.

Loki gently turned his chin, thumbing his cheek. “It’s okay. I don’t feel unsafe,” he promised.

Humming, Thor leaned into his soft touch.

“Okay, Loki. Do you want to keep napping, or get up?”

“We can get up! I’m hungry,” he smiled.

“Sure. I’ll wash up and make dinner.”

Thor reluctantly let go of Loki and rose out of bed.

Loki shyly looked away, cheeks bright red, and hopped out of the bed, heading into the front room. 

Keeping out of Loki’s sight as best he could, Thor went to the sink and wet a small rag. He cleaned himself off and then went back to his room for pants. 

“What sounds good?”

He kept his head down to give Thor privacy, playing with some of the extra leather strips that were left from sewing earlier. 

He looked back when he spoke. “Anything. You know I’m not picky,” he beamed.

“So fish is acceptable?”

“Mm, yes! The last fish I had was really gross,” he nodded.

“Alright. I’ll go fish us up some dinner then.”

“Can I come?” He asked, hopping up immediately, grinning wide.

“If you’d like, then yes.”

He nodded eagerly. “Yes! I know how to fish, too, so I can help,” he grinned.

“I only have the one rod, but you can help me bait the hooks and take the fish off. If you don’t mind.”

“That’s okay! I don’t use a rod anyway,” he assured. “And I’ll do whatever you need me to.” He was genuinely excited, beaming innocently, just glad to spend time with him. 

“You… don’t use a rod? How do you catch fish then?”

“I use a crate and fence off a corner. They swim in, but they can’t get out,” he explained, smiling.

“Gods, you’re a genius.”

He cocked his head. “I am?” 

“Yes, you are. I never would have thought of that. It’s very clever.”

He shrugged, bashful but still preening. "You get a lot of time to think when you're alone and hungry."

“You won’t be hungry anymore. I’ll see to that. And when you’re here you won’t be alone.”

"You're very sweet to me," he said, stepping outside and walking toward the stream. 

“You deserve it.” Thor grabbed his pole from beside the door and followed Loki down to the water. The grass was soft and warm beneath his bare feet.

Sometime during their quiet walk Loki wandered closer to Thor, linking his little hand in his as they went.

The soft touch was soothing. Thor’s large hand engulfed Loki’s, covering it so well it might have disappeared. He couldn’t help but smile as Loki pressed against his arm.

“Where do you usually fish?”

"In the stream behind the church. There isn't much, but I catch things now and then," he said, shrugging. 

“I think you’ll have better luck out here. The stream connects to a proper river.”

He nodded. “The streams unfreeze first. And the river… It’s so big and deep. The waters rush too fast and… I get scared,” he admitted.

“Well,” Thor said, “I’m here with you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. He got to the bank of the Bifrost, watching the waters rush by. It was calmer here, softer, glittering in the sun. 

Thor found a spot with several large rocks and sat down atop one. He guided Loki over and began to string his pole.

Loki sat down beside him, watching him loop the line through, his gaze intensely curious, as though he were trying to memorize everything Thor was doing.

“Think you could do me a favor and catch a worm?”

“Oh, sure,” he smiled, hopping off the rocks and going behind them to dig around. It didn’t take long before he had several earthworms wriggling around in his hand. He came back, holding his cupped hands out to him with a grin.

“Ah, perfect! Thank you, Loki.”

Thor took one from his hands and hooked it onto the barbed metal hook at the end of the line. He drew the pole back and slung it forward, letting go of the thread. The worm sank into the water, and Thor settled in to wait.

Loki peered into the water where it had gone, holding onto Thor’s shoulder as he leaned. “How do you know when you’ve got it?” 

“There’ll be a tug on the line - then I start pulling it back. You have to be careful though, a big enough fish can snap the tether.”

“Do you think there’s fish in here big enough to do that?” He asked, leaning back as though he were afraid something monstrous would snap at him. 

“Hm… No, I don’t think so. At the ocean, though, yes.”

Loki relaxed, sighing gently. “Good. I don’t want to see any sea monsters today,” he giggled. 

“No monsters here, little one. Just us, and the fish, and the creatures of the forest. Tell me, does your village ever prepare stockfish?”

Loki made a face. “Yes. It smells horrible and every other week in Morsugur sounds like a sea of drums while they beat the things. I’m told it’s delicious, though.”

“If I can get a hold of some, if it freezes again, I’ll make you a stew. It’s just cod, but it’s incredible.”

He smiled. “I’ll only endure the smell for you,” he assured. “The scraps are awful, so I hope the hot meals are better.” 

“Well, in the hands of a decent enough cook... “

Thor smiled and wrapped his free arm around Loki. In the quiet glade, in the warm light of the slowly setting sun, he felt truly at peace for the first time in his long life. 

He cooed, curling up against him with a gentle smile. “Mm. You’re so warm.” 

“Oh I am? Is that good?’

He felt the magnetic pull to the boy beside him thrumming in his chest. Fragments of his dream fluttered through his mind - devotion, ecstasy, the feel of being whole… It meant something, and he knew it, but comprehension danced just beyond the reach of his mind. More than anything, he longed to kiss Loki again. Until neither could breathe, until the river rose and swallowed them both.

Loki’s dream tickled the back of his mind, tantalizing, close, but fogged over so much he couldn’t possibly hope to make it out. He knew it was something to do with the woodsman beside him, something important and wonderful. He felt as though he could feel Thor’s soul, sense the blood in his veins and connect so wholly with him it was like they were one person. 

He slipped his fingers through Thor’s, holding his hand as best as he could. 

“You can, you know,” he said, answering a question Thor hadn’t spoken, looking up at him. “It’s okay.”

“Mmn… Alright.”

He didn’t question Loki’s knowledge. It fit. It made sense. Of course Loki knew the thoughts in his head - he’d know the measure of Thor’s heart as it beat in time with his own. 

Thor leaned the pole against the rock and slid one large hand along Loki’s cheek. He pulled him close and pressed their lips together. He hadn’t had the chance to shave yet, but he would, after dinner. He knew his hair tickled Loki’s sensitive skin even before the boy giggled.

He slipped his tongue past his teeth, deepening their kiss, a low groan building in his chest.

Loki ignored any tickle or discomfort, melting into the kiss readily. He groaned very, very quietly, his little hands pressed against his chest. 

He twisted his tongue against his, letting Thor lead and show him how to reciprocate rather than simply using him like a toy. 

Thor slowly guided Loki back on the grass and crawled over him. His muscular body dwarfed Loki’s, and he crowded it against him as he taught the sweet boy how to kiss - how to really kiss, with passion and need behind each little movement of his jaw.

He slotted himself between Loki’s thighs and dragged his groin against his. Compared to Loki’s little cock his own was massive, hot even through his clothes as it rubbed against Loki’s.

Loki was on fire. His whole body had been set alight by Thor's tenderness, passion, his palpable want that flooded into him with each brush of their lips. 

He trembled when their bodies touched, feeling how Thor was straining against his clothes, and how aware Loki now was that beneath this tunic, he was completely naked. He let out another moan, a shiver working through him.

Thor slipped a hand up under his tunic and gently teased his nipples. His breath was hot against Loki’s face, drool slipping down his chin as Thor rolled his hips in steady circles. He couldn’t help but wonder how soft Loki’s belly might feel against his shaft. 

His lust was overwhelming. It was Loki - Loki was his, he belonged to Loki, and the scent of his skin and the taste of his tongue was driving him wild. Still, his restraint was beyond that of most people. He wouldn’t hurt him. He wouldn’t fuck him like the priests. 

When Loki was ready, when Loki wanted to split his hot cunt on Thor’s cock, Thor wouldn’t hesitate. Until then, this was enough. This hot, heavy tease of their bodies grinding together. 

Loki leaned his head back, shuddering, utterly overwhelmed and lost in this pure bliss. 

"Mm! Mm, Thor…" he cooed, meeting his hips hungrily and staring at his mouth. 

“Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you. Anything at all.”

"You. Just, just more of you. You feel so good, your hands, your mouth… I like this." He panted, staring at him with blown pupils. 

Thor kissed him again with a soft groan. He moved his hand higher, cupping Loki’s throat posessively. With his other he shoved down his trousers, eager just to feel Loki’s flesh against his own.

He whimpered, parting his lips and slowly worked his tongue against Thor’s, just like he’d shown him how. He knew they should stop soon, that this fire they’ve built up would have to cool and quickly if they wanted enough light to keep fishing and not miss out on their dinner--

Time slowed. Around them, the wind slowed to a near halt, the babbling of the water quieted to nothing, the birds’ songs were one drawn out note. Time stopped, and now they didn’t have to. 

“You- Mmn, Thor!” His skin was searing against his own, and he was trembling hard in his hands, beneath his body, as though he were wracked with a fever rather than Thor’s sweet embrace. He gently cupped his face, holding onto him with a soft smile of unhindered bliss. 

“I’ve got you, Loki. Oh, look at you, how beautiful you are…”

The sounds - and lack thereof - finally pierced through his haze of list and need. Thor glanced around in wonder. The water was still. The leaves paused in mid-ruffle. Insects hovering in the air.

“You  _ do  _ have power,” he whispered. “How incredible!”

Loki was far too lost in what they were doing to notice what Thor said or really what he was looking at. He gave a needy whine, bucking his hips greedily to regain his attention. 

“As you wish…”

Thor slid their cocks together, his slick precum only adding to their pleasure. He couldn’t get enough of Loki - the weight of his body pressed them together as he thrust, as if he could absorb the enigmatic child into his own form. He pushed his tunic up, letting their hot skin touch.

“Mm, yes! Yes, please, please, don’t stop, Thor,” he begged, writhing and beneath him with a deep, primal hunger he’d never felt before. Nothing had ever felt so right, so perfect, than it did right here and now. 

He wanted Thor, he wanted him desperately and he never wanted him to let go. He felt as though leaving him, never being with him again, may very well kill him. 

“I’m yours,” he panted, confessing. “I’m yours, Thor.” 

“And I belong to you, Loki.”

Thor leaned in and let his lips brush Loki’s ear as he spoke.

“I am yours in this life and the next, in every world, in every sense. My heart is yours. My lips are yours. My body is yours. I would do anything for you. I cannot live without you, Loki. I will not live without you.”

He reached down with his free hand and cupped their cocks together, rubbing them hard and rough.

Loki closed his eyes, tears welling in them as Thor spoke. He nodded, holding onto the back of Thor’s head, his fingers threaded in his soft locks to keep him close. Thor was a part of him he didn’t know had been missing, a lifeline that had been thrown that pulled him out of the darkness he’d been pitched into. 

Thor had quickly become his everything, and it felt as though it had taken centuries to achieve that.

He moaned, his hips jerking into his hand, his little cock throbbing against his almost painfully. He was desperate to come, desperate to feel Thor release against him instead of just watching him as he had last night. 

He quietly chanted his name, speaking into his ear, begging for more and praising him with every motion.

Thor spilled without warning, covering Loki’s chest in hot seed. His body trembled as he caught Loki’s lips once more. He kept moving, coaxing the boy to follow him over the edge.

Loki kissed him back, gasping as Thor came. He clung to him, moaning into his mouth as he jerked and came just moments after him. He writhed and bucked through his orgasm, whimpering. The bubble around them popped, and time resumed. 

“Oh… I love you,” Thor whispered.

Loki jerked, staring up at him. “You what?” 

He tucked Loki’s damp hair behind his ears. 

“I love you.”

“I… You can’t.” 

Thor snorted. “Says who?”

“E-everyone,” he stammered. “Me. There...there’s nothing to love about me.” He blinked quickly, trying to wick tears away.

“I love how intelligent you are. How clever you are. How quickly you can dream up solutions to the problems you face. I love your laugh, I love how curious you are, I love that there’s old-world magic in your blood. I love the way you snore, and how your little hand fits into mine.”

Despite his efforts, a tear slid down Loki’s cheek, the lump in his throat nearly overwhelming him entirely. “You...you could have anyone. Anyone, anywhere, n-no matter what and… And you say you love a runty thing like me?”

“I want you. Not the whores I used to visit in the village, no nobles, no merchants, no clergy. Just you, Loki. I belong to you and you alone.”

He sniffled, rubbing his eyes. “Those ladies are very nice, don’t be mean,” he said, cracking a smile. “I… No one’s ever said that to me before.” 

“Who said anything about ladies? Surely you can tell where my interests lie - not with women, certainly.”

Thor pressed gentle kisses to his cheeks and pulled Loki into his arms.

“I love you, Loki. All of you.”

“Oh. Well they’re nice too.” He hugged him tight, turning his face into his throat and pressing his cool forehead against his hot skin. Maybe this was another dream, beautiful, pure and wonderful as it was. He didn’t want to wake up, then.

Behind them, the fishing rod clattered against the rocks.

“Ah - we have a bite!”

Thor lifted Loki and sat down, adjusting him in his lap. He took the pole and motioned for Loki to grab it as well.

Loki buzzed with excitement, holding onto the pole as guided and watched with bright eyes. 

He reeled in the line, eyes bright, laughing. It felt like a fairly big fish.

Loki laughed with him, tugging and pulling hard in hopes of helping him. 

“Hold on Loki!” 

Thor tugged the rod back, fighting against the pull. Out of the water leaped a beautiful rainbow trout.

He gasped. “We did it!” He cried, hurrying to hold the fish still and bring it all the way on land. He struggled as it flopped and wriggled, falling on his butt while he held it. 

“Good job, Loki!”

He pulled out his knife from his trousers and cut the line. 

“Don’t let it go!”

“I’m trying!” He hollered, giggling. “It won’t hold still!” 

Thor knelt down and pressed his knife into the fish. It stilled in Loki’s arms.

Loki jumped, shutting his eyes and looking away quickly, a queasiness coming over him just hearing the blade pierce flesh. He relaxed his grip and held the dead fish out to Thor. “I never like that part,” he said softly. 

“Let’s head back. I’ll dress the fish outside so you don’t have to see it.”

He started to pull his trousers back up. 

Loki nodded, pushing his hair out of his face and went to get the rod, carrying it carefully as he started back toward the house.

Thor carried the fish. He didn’t want Loki to have to handle the dead thing. Death wasn’t easy for him, and with the burden already on his shoulders the last thing Thor wanted to do was add to it.

They followed the trail back to Thor’s cottage with ease, even as the light faded. The lantern by the door flared to life as they approached.

“Why don’t you wash up? I’ll dress the fish and bring it in to cook.”

Loki walked along, quiet, following a trail he didn’t know he’d memorized. He cocked his head, curious, when the lantern came on by itself but he didn’t ask about it. He smiled back at Thor, nodding and went inside, 

He went to the wash basin, twisting his hair back with some leather cord and tying it so he could wash his face and his hands, sighing happily. Two days without pain. Two days of peace. And it could be like this forever. If...if Father Ebony would ever leave him alone. 


	10. A Baker's Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blissful end to a soothing day.

Loki dried his face off and went to the front room. Carefully as he could, he went around the main part of the house lighting the fire in its hearth and the other lanterns so the home looked more inviting and welcoming.

Thor gutted the fish and filleted it on a stump outside. He brought the cleaned meat in and started to fry it on the fire. The day… the day was perfect. He smiled as he cooked, grateful to have Loki’s company.

Putting out the last match, Loki came back into the main room. He grinned at Thor’s back and hurried up beside him. 

He brushed a loose curl from his face and leaned his head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he said softly. 

“Mmn… you look good with your hair pulled back, little one.”

He blushed, climbing up behind him to wrap his arms around his neck and rest his chin on his shoulder. “Thank you..”

“It suits you. Dinner will be ready soon. Will you stay with me until it’s ready?”

“Where else would I go?” He giggled. 

“Somewhere that isn’t my back.”

“Oh,” he hopped down. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” 

“Come back - I said I didn’t want you to go.” Thor beckoned him back over. What a silly boy.

“Oi, you told me to move,” he reminded, then climbed up into his lap instead. “There. Is this okay?” 

“No,  _ you  _ asked me where else you could go and I told you. I want you here, I want to feel you.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry.” He said, resting his head on his chest. “I’m here now.” He smiled briefly before turning his gaze to the fire, staring into the flames as the light danced off his features. He held Thor’s hands, sighing contentedly. 

“You are wonderful, Loki. Absolutely wonderful.”

“Or, you’re just lonely,” he offered.

“Hmn… no. It’s just you.” Thor peppered his face with kisses, tickling him with his free hand.

“Ah!” He squirmed and giggled, catching Thor’s mouth in his own briefly. “No fair!” 

Thor stole a brief kiss from Loki, chasing his lips. “Hop up and I’ll serve dinner.”

He grinned, his whole face buzzing from the kisses, and got down, heading over to the table. 

Wrapping the handle of the pan in a thick rag, Thor carried it over to the table. He’d seasoned the trout with garlic and lemon, and the scent filled the warm interior of the cabin. He set the pan down and served them each a plate with roast corn, as well as a glass of water.

“Thank you for all your help Loki.”

Loki was eager to eat, nearly drooling when Thor brought over their plates. "Thank you for...well, everything," he smiled, his eyes warm and overflowing with gratitude. 

“You’re welcome. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Loki. Go ahead and eat.”

Thor tucked into his meal, hoping Loki would enjoy it.

He ate with as much fervor as usual, humming delightedly. "It's wonderful.”

“I have a surprise for dessert.”

He lit up. "A surprise?!”

Thor nodded and glanced toward the pantry. “I baked it the day before yesterday. I meant to give it to you, but I was exhausted.”

"Well thank you. I'm excited," he grinned. "You sure you want to share? You don't have to."

“Loki, I made it for us. Of course I want to share.”

He grinned. "Okay! As long as you're alright with it," he said, taking another large bite of food. 

Thor’s food disappeared as he ate. He was ravenous, but he was careful to keep his pace slow and calm. He wanted to set a good example for Loki.

He grinned at him, his own plate clean. "I finished!" He said brightly. 

“Alright, close your eyes.”

Thor stood and crossed over to the pantry.

Loki placed his hands over his eyes, keeping them shut. Normally, he would peek, but Thor was trusting him not to. 

After a few moments Thor set something down in front of him. 

“Go ahead and look.”

On the table sat a latticed wildberry pie, bigger than Loki’s head and decorated with almonds.

Loki gasped, his eyes going wide. "Oh! Oh, Thor, you made this?"

“I did, with berries I’d saved from the spring. Here…”

Thor cut him a large slice and placed it on his plate.

He carefully took a bite, moaning. "Mmph… oh, Thor, it's wonderful."

“Oh, good! I’m glad you like it.” Thor licked his lips, staring at Loki as he groaned.

Loki licked berry juice from his finger and looked over at him. "Are you going to have some too?"

“I am. I’m just… enjoying you,” He said, and served himself a piece. 

He blushed a little and kept eating. "You're silly."

“How?”

"You like watching me eat," he giggled.

“I like watching you do anything - but especially when you use your mouth.”

He blushed deeper. "Well, um, thank you, Thor."

“You’re welcome.”

Thor ate his pie, humming, enjoying the flush on Loki’s cheeks.

Loki ate the rest of his piece, humming. "Can I have more?"

“Of course. Just don’t hurt yourself, love.”

He cocked his head. "Hurt myself?" He asked, taking another piece. 

“It is possible to eat so much your stomach hurts. It’s… not pleasant.”

"Oh. I'll be careful," he promised, eating slowly. 

“Good boy.”

Loki turned even redder, now eating shyly, pink down his neck and up to his ears.

Thor finished his slice and stood. 

“I’m going to go shave, Loki. Help yourself.”

"Okay! I...will try to save you some," he giggled.

Thor excused himself to the bathroom and prepared his razor. He lathered his cream and rubbed it along his jaw. With a blade in hand he began to scrape away his thick, wild and altogether unruly beard.

Ten minutes later he returned to the kitchen. His lips were large and pink, his jaw sharp. He looked younger without his facial hair, beautiful in an ethereal way.

Loki had filled himself up with pie and was carefully moving the dishes to the small wash bin. "I can't reach the water pump to do the washing up but if--" 

He turned to look at Thor and his eyes grew, his heart pattering hard against his ribs. He was… unbearably beautiful, so much so it hurt to look at him. 

"Oh…"

His golden hair fell around his bare shoulders, the soft and welcoming lips he’d come to know now on full display. He could follow their shape, see how they formed his smile and find them almost as distracting as his eyes. 

He knew how blue they were, but everything about him had been hidden away, whether by an inordinate amount of hair or his own demeanor. Now, it seemed, he’d shed that entirely and Loki could watch those piercing, depthless eyes of his look at him, look  _ through _ him, and make him tremble at his very core. 

If ever there were an angel walking the earth, it was Thor as he looked now. No paintings, sketches or stained glass could ever capture his beauty, but the boy found himself wanting to try, even if it took a thousand years, he would try. 

Thor shifted on his heels, Loki’s silence making him unsure. “Is it bad?” Thor asked, rubbing his smooth skin.

Loki had to avidly search for his voice before he could speak again. "N-no. Not, not bad at all. Rather the opposite," he said quietly, his own eyes wide, lips parted in awe. 

Grinning, Thor crossed over to him and lifted him into his arms. “Want to feel it?”

Loki was already touching his face, running his soft palms along his jaw and his cheeks. His jaw was so strong, his skin freshly smooth and gently scented. "You look like a different person," he giggled, nuzzling their cheeks together so he could feel him more.

“Mmn… is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

"Well, you're very handsome either way," he squeaked. “But it’s a good thing. It’s… It’s very good.”

“Would you like a bath before bed, or would you like to sleep?”

Loki stared at him, not hearing him for a moment. "Um, a, uh, a bath would be good." 

Thor carried him into the washroom and drew the water. He set him down, squatting to light the coals beneath it. The leather breeches drew tight against the muscles of his legs, muscles rippling from his shoulders to his arse. 

Biting his lip, Loki tried to look away and not ogle him too much. Before, it felt like there was...a barrier of sorts. It had been as though Thor couldn’t see him so long as Loki couldn’t do the same, and it offered him some comfort. He hadn’t been any less enthralling or handsome, but the veil was there. 

Now that it was ripped away, it was as though Loki were looking at him for the first time, and he didn’t want to treat him like some piece of meat. It wouldn't be fair or right, but the acres of skin and his beautiful face made his heart pound and his insides squirm with desire.

He folded his arms to resist touching him, waiting patiently. 

“There we go.” Thor stood and began to undress.

Loki’s pulse quickened. "Oh, you're, um, you're joining me?" He stammered. 

“Well we got dirty by the river… I can wait for you to finish, I just thought… Since we shared the bath yesterday…” 

"N-no, I don't mind!" He assured, fighting to get himself under control. "I like it, I just didn't know." Now he was angry with himself. His own rampant emotions were causing Thor to think he was afraid of him, when it was the farthest from the truth.

Thor retied the leather cinches on his trousers. 

“That’s alright. You go on. I’m going to put the pie away.”

In his heart Thor could feel Loki’s fear, heavy and dark. A victim of the priests and their groping hands, their demanding cocks, their greedy mouths. It didn’t matter if the lie stung. Loki needed space. Thor could tell he’d already crossed several boundaries with him.

He gently touched Loki’s shoulder and moved to leave.

The priests had tortured him so, so much, but in doing so he quickly learned the difference between being forced, being used without an ounce of care or worry about his own well being. Even in the gentle ways Thor touched him, holding his hand, touching his shoulder, he was different than them. The opposite, even. Young as he was, he wasn’t sure how to put those feelings into proper words, 

Instead, Loki grabbed Thor by the wrist to stop him, his gaze firm. "Stop. I'm not scared of you. Please… Come with me."

“I know you aren’t afraid of  _ me,  _ Loki, but you are afraid. I can feel it. It makes my heart ache to feel yours slamming against my chest like a scared, trapped rabbit. I’ll still be here after your bath.” 

Loki didn’t know how or why Thor could feel it, but he still had it wrong. “I’m, I’m nervous. Not because we’ll be close but...but you’re so beautiful and…” 

“I…”

Thor didn’t know what to say. It didn’t quite make sense to him. Loki was nervous… because he was aroused? That didn’t seem like it was possible, but he didn’t want to press Loki.

“That makes you nervous? Did we not spend part of our day rubbing our cocks together like wild beasts in heat? Did I not take you in my mouth until your soft thighs trembled with pleasure? What’s changed in the last few hours?”

He flushed bright red, looking away as his face burned. “We...we did. But now I can see you. All of you. Which means you can see me too, and there’s...there’s no barriers anymore. It’s… I don’t know how to explain it other than I feel more exposed. And part of me worries you won’t like what you see.” 

“Loki,” Thor said softly, “I love you. All of you.”

He nodded a little. “I know. I keep telling myself that. Which is why I don’t want you to go. I’ve never felt like this before.” 

“If you’re certain you don’t mind, then I’ll stay. I don’t have to get in the tub if you want.”

“I don’t mind. And I want you to get in with me,” he assured, squeezing his hand.

“Okay.”

Thor let go and resumed stripping his clothing.

Loki pulled his tunic over his head and climbed into the tub, twisting his hair up higher to keep it out of the water. He chewed his lip, staring at Thor with an ever-growing hunger.

Thor climbed into the bath after him, letting out a soft groan as the hot water washed over him.

He swallowed, looking up at him shyly. “Thank you again. For dinner and, and the pie and helping me make new clothes.”

“You’re welcome, Loki. I’d do anything for you.”

Thor meant it. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Loki, even if it put him in danger. They were bound inextricably, and Thor knew he wouldn’t ever want to be free.

Loki moved closer, turning so his back was against Thor’s chest and he was neatly slotted between his legs. “I know you would,” he assured. “Someday I’ll pay you back for all this.” 

With a soft hum Thor wrapped his arms around Loki’s waist, settling his chin on top of his head. 

“If you want to pay me back, just be here with me. This is all I need. You warm in my arms, a good meal… a good day with good company.”

He cooed, calming immediately once he was wrapped in Thor’s arms. He smiled softly and gently kissed his arm. 

“I can do that,” he assured, sighing happily.

“Perfect.”

Thor closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of Loki’s heart beating against his chest. It was perfect, a serene and peaceful bubble shielding them from the sins of the town. Relaxed and soothed, he pressed lazy kisses to Loki’s hair.

Loki leaned his head back, content and warm and happier than he’d ever been. He’d been fed, bathed, clothed and cared for for the first time in his short life, and he didn’t want to give it up. Perhaps he could tell Father Ebony he was leaving to live with Thor, and there was nothing he could do about it no matter how hard he tried, and run away before he could do or say anything. 

He’d find a way, any way, to get the church to leave him alone so he could keep this bliss he’d found for himself. 

His eyes slid shut, head lolling gently against his chest as he fell into a light doze.

Thor soaped his hands and gently massaged it into Loki’s skin, washing him with careful attention. He lifted his arm and cleaned from his fingers to his shoulder, and then repeated the motion with the other.

Down his chest, his stomach, his hips… Thor worked Loki’s muscles with practiced skill.

He hummed softly, pliant and soft in Thor’s powerful hands. “You feel so good,” he whispered, hips arching a little to meet his touches and make it easier for him to reach. 

“Is this okay, Loki?”

Thor reached down and started to wash his thighs, his large hands engulfing Loki’s soft flesh.

“Yes,” he nodded, humming. “I like it. You don’t have to stop.” 

He spread his legs, moaning gently. His body buzzed from the attention, the warmth encompassing and intoxicating. 

Thor kept his touch light as he caressed Loki’s legs. Every now and then his knuckles brushed his little cock, teasing little touches to test Loki’s boundaries.

Loki whined, his cock twitching until it was standing, and he chased Thor’s touches with a whine.

“May I wash you here too?”

“Y-yes,” he nodded, his voice soft. “Please…” 

Thor stroked his little cock, peeling back the skin to clean him thoroughly. It felt so good in his hand, like doen, like fine silk.

He whimpered, rocking just a little into his hand, knees trembling. "Oh… Oh, that's so good," he breathed.

“I love the way your cock feels in my palm,” Thor cooed. “I love touching you. And those noises you make… they drive me wild. When you’re older, when you’re ready, I’d love to show you how beautiful sex can be. I want to worship your body, make you sob in pleasure… but I can wait. I will wait as long as it takes for you to be ready.”

Loki writhed as he spoke, thrusting in earnest now. His face was flushed with pleasure and want, his heart pounding hard. "Mmn, Thor!" He whimpered. "Y-you're so kind, so gentle, so good to me," he shuddered. 

“You deserve to be revered. Your body is a shrine, one I long to prostrate myself before. I love you Loki, and I want to show you everything I know. I want to teach you how to fuck, how to be fucked, how to be assertive and take control…”

Loki whined and writhed, canting his hips helplessly. "I, I want you to show me. I want you to, Thor!" He groaned. 

“Imagine how your small hands would feel squeezing my throat. Imagine me begging for you to fuck me, writhing and sweating like a bitch in heat. Can you see it, Loki? Can you see me desperate for your cock?”

Either through his own mind's eye or Thor's imagination, he definitely could. He could see Thor panting, begging, sweating beneath him, starving for his cock. One fist in his hair, the other cinched around his neck, and the filthy, filthy things he was saying…

"Yes!" He cried. "Yes, yes, I can see it!" 

“What would you say to me? What would you command me to do? I’d be drooling onto the bed, my ass red from the strength of your hips, eyes unfocused from the pleasure overwhelming me.”

Thor rolled the pad of his thumb along Loki’s wet slit, squeezing gently.

Loki's lashes fluttered, whining as he spoke. He remembered what Thor looked like being so well fucked, how desperate he was, sweating and whimpering and begging. He'd been absolutely overwhelmed just watching Thor lose himself so, let alone being fully responsible for it. 

“I… I would tell you how beautiful you looked. How, how that hunger and desperation made you glow, and knowing your aching and rampant desire for me only made me want you more. I’d tell you how, how good you were. That you’re a good whore, just for me a-and I’d use you like one. And...o-oh, I can’t, I can’t think of anything else,” he breathed, squirming. 

“That’s alright. Just focus on how this feels. How it feels to be touched by someone who loves you. Who hungers for you. Who aches for every soft moan and stuttering breath and greedy whimper.”

Loki moaned and writhed, fucking his hand while Thor's deep voice rumbled against his back and his hot breath ghosted over his ear. It was overwhelming, and he came with a cry and a stutter of his hips. 

“Mmn… that’s it. Good boy.  _ My _ good boy.”

Thor kissed his throat and rinsed his cock in the warm water. Gods, but Loki was perfect.

Loki caught his breath, and when Thor was through cleaning him he turned so he was facing him and kissed him deeply. 

He kissed Loki back, sliding his wet hands up the planes of his shoulders and pulling him as close as he could.

"Thank you," he whispered.

“For what, love?”

"Being so sweet and kind to me. Touching me without hurting me."

“Oh, you don’t need to thank me. I’m honored to share these things with you Loki.”

He brushed their noses together. "Which is why I need to thank you," he explained. 

“Alright. You’re welcome,” Thor replied, smiling.

Loki hugged him, arms around his neck, and sighed happily. 

“You are so precious, so wonderful. I’m so glad you entered the woods.”

"We should send the boys who chased me here a fruit basket or something," he giggled. 

“Oh, I’d like to pay them a visit,” Thor said, a shadow rising in his eyes. “Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, but knowing how they treat you…” 

Loki shook his head, cupping his cheek to bring him back to him. “Let's not think about them, think about us."

Thor focused on Loki. He forced away the thoughts of whipping the little brats who tortured his boy and turned his attention on tending to Loki instead.

“You’re right. All that matters is us.”

Loki smiled, kissing his neck gently. "That's right."

“Mmn… Do you want to get out and go to bed?"

He nodded. "Mmhm, yes please."

Thor drained the tub and scooped Loki in his arms. He carried him to the bedroom, pausing only to grab a towel and dry him off. In the bedroom he lay him on the bed and crawled in beside Loki.

He hummed, letting Thor care for him and carry him while he rested sleepily. He snuggled into bed, smiling up at him. "Thank you."

“It’s fine, Loki. I like pampering you.”

"I quite like it too," he nodded.

Thor pulled him to his chest and kissed him gently. “Goodnight, Loki.”

Loki cooed into the kiss before nuzzling against his warm, soft skin, feeling so small yet so protected beside him. "Goodnight, Thor."

Thor closed his eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Loki followed quickly, exhausted, no dreams to speak of into the night. 


	11. Gentle Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki gets the urge to repay Thor’s kindness with pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is late! We’ve both had some rl stuff to deal with. The next chapter will be on time, in theory! I’ve got to get a tooth extracted this week tho, so I may be in too much pain to edit.

Loki woke some hours later, the deep black of night encompassing the house save for the moon outside, thirsty. 

He rubbed his eyes, sitting up carefully, and looked over at Thor.

Thor lay on his back, snoring softly in the darkness. He was still naked, his skin slightly damp from the bath.

Slowly, Loki reached out to gently caress his skin, just to feel him, mindful not to wake him. He traced the soft muscles of his chest, down his stomach, the vee of his hips… 

His skin was soft, if still a bit wet, and radiated warmth all through the bed. Loki watched him breathe for a moment, still touching him. Thor had done so much for him. Given him food, shelter, even made him new clothes. His kindness and care was more than Loki could understand, and his confession of love might be confusing, but it was welcomed too. 

Nothing but his company, that’s what Thor said he wanted in return for all of this, but Loki knew he could do more. So, so much more. 

He carefully slid the blanket down Thor’s hips, uncovering him to his thighs. Thor’s cock lie heavily between his legs, and Loki found himself salivating at the thought of tasting him. Thor made him feel good in the bath...he could return the favor. If the priests had done anything for him it was training his mouth properly. 

Cautiously, Loki let his fingers trace along the base of Thor’s cock, edging along the entire shaft with the barest of teasing touches.

Thor’s breath caught in his chest. His cock twitched against Loki’s fingers, slowly growing stiff as he explored his body.

He smiled, glad for his pleasure. He wrapped his hand around him and began to stroke, coaxing an erection from him with deliberate movements.

With Loki’s attentive touch Thor’s cock thickened with surprising speed. He’d been worked up in the bath - Loki could feel his hard cock against him - but hadn’t sought relief. His body still yearned to come.

“Mm…” Loki’s eyes glittered with excitement, wanting to please him more than anything. He leaned down and dragged his soft little lips along the shaft of his cock. 

Thor couldn’t wake up; if he did he’d ask him to stop because of what he’d been through and he absolutely refused to do so now. Unwittingly, he let his magic keep Thor in a deep sleep, allowing whatever dreams or fantasies to come so long as he stayed unconscious. 

Soft, small bodies slid over him with giggles and teasing little touches. Thor lay pinned beneath multiple Lokis, naked and eager to make contact with his skin. He opened his arms and gathered them close to him - after all, there was plenty of attention for all of them.

He let out a low moan, held under by Loki’s power, caught between his dream and the hot mouth kissing his cock.

Loki hummed and placed gentle, teasing licks to his head, twisting his tongue against his slit. His bright eyes were locked on Thor’s face, watching the pleasure wash over him. 

Thor’s back lifted off the mattress and his hips tensed. In his dream every sense was dominated by Loki and his doubles. One kissed him as another sucked at his nipple. One Loki touched his cock as another rubbed his hole. His body was theirs to explore.

Loki let him thrust into his mouth, taking him easily and happily. He growled, holding onto his hip. His free hand stroked where his mouth couldn’t reach.

Whining, Thor fucked Loki’s mouth. It felt incredible - his mind was having trouble directing the pleasure, and it felt as though he were being swallowed by pure bliss. He could taste Loki on his tongue, could smell his hair, could hear his voice coaxing him on.

He took Thor deeper, as much as he could take, guiding Thor's dreams without thinking. 

The duplicates roaming Thor's body moved with more purpose. They traded kisses with Thor and each other, two of them teasing his groin with touches and caresses while two more suckled and flicked his nipples. 

One slotted himself between Thor's legs, clearly the real Loki amidst the others. He smirked and leaned down, taking Thor's cock into his mouth, just as he was outside of the dream. Another sharp, staggering wave of pleasure washed over Thor, heightening every nerve while his cock was sucked. 

He moaned loudly, tangling one hand in the hair of the boy swallowing his cock. In the bed he did the same, breathing hard as he gripped Loki’s soft locks in his fist. Thor rolled his hips into Loki’s mouth. A thick thread of drool slipped down the corner of his mouth. The ecstasy flooded every sense, and his hard cock throbbed against Loki’s small tongue.

Loki shuddered, the tug on his hair making his own cock twitch to life. He moaned around Thor, bobbing his head hungrily. He gagged and drooled around him but refused to stop. 

“A-ah… fuck, Loki…”

Still under Loki’s spell, Thor managed to mumble sleepy praises to the boys in his dream. He could feel his climax rising, his toes curling as he fucked Loki’s hot mouth.

Loki groaned, eager to make him come, to taste him and baptize his tongue, washing away the ruin the priests brought on him. He slipped one hand down to stroke himself while he sucked and licked at Thor's member. 

"Come, Thor," he commanded, voice rough. "Come for me. Show me how much you love me."

Thor gasped, slamming his cock down Loki’s throat. He came hard, thick and hot over Loki’s tongue. His breathing was sharp and quick, muscles taut as he rode out the orgasm.

Loki swallowed every drop, humming around him. He licked up anything he missed, stroking himself quickly until he came as well, shocking Thor with the waves of his orgasm as well.

His cock spurted again, nearly as strong as the last. Loki’s pleasure was too much to bear. Thor sobbed mindlessly, thrusting uselessly into the cool air as if in heat.

Loki gasped, surprised, and lapped up the rest of the mess. "Shh… Shh, I have you," he assured, easing him back to rest. 

Moaning, Thor curled up and pulled Loki into his arms. 

He hummed, glad to be so close to him and nuzzled into his chest. He gently kissed his skin and spoke very, very softly into the dark. 

"I love you too."

* * *

When Thor woke he felt incredible - no aches, no dark thoughts, just warmth in his heart and a faint tingling all over his body. His cock was hard and flushed but he didn’t feel the need to tend to himself. Somehow, he felt spent. 

There was a lingering sensation akin to being drunk fogging up his head in the best way. Thor rolled over toward Loki and kissed his forehead. 

_ Little hands sliding over him, little cocks leaking against his abs, the scent of Loki’s sweat and arousal thick in the air. Soft lips sliding up and down his shaft - deeper, deeper, until drool pooled on his thighs -  _

Was it more than a dream? Thor stared at Loki, curious as to the extent of his power. 

Loki yawned, feeling Thor stir, and cracked his eyes open. He smiled softly at him. "Morning," he mumbled. 

“Good morning, little one.” Thor reached out and traced his pink lips with his thumb. “Did you… do something, last night?”

"Do something?" He asked, shivering beneath the touch. 

“To me. I feel… different.”

Loki blushed a little, waking more. "Oh… Different, um, how?"

“Like there’s lightning in my blood. Like I’ve been spent.”

He shook his head, brow pinched. "I don't understand."

“Like I’ve been thoroughly fucked.”

"Oh-oh, um…I, I just wanted to thank you, um, properly and…" he looked at his hands, flushed and afraid of what Thor might think of him, if he’d call him the same names the priests called him after he’d done what they told him to. It was a sin, what he’d done, he knew that. 

“What did you do, Loki? I won’t be mad,” Thor coaxed, his voice soft, gentle.

Loki hesitated. “I, um, I sucked you off,” he mumbled, glancing at him to gauge a reaction but ultimately keeping his eyes down. 

“Oh my… with your pretty little mouth? That must have been quite the task… Thank you, Loki. Did you - did you enjoy it?”

Loki slowly looked up at him, surprised. “Yes. I, I liked it very much.” 

Thor leaned in and kissed him. He slipped his tongue past his lips and pulled Loki on top of him. Knowing that Loki had sucked his cock while he slept was almost dizzying. It was sexy, it was spontaneous… and he’d wanted to. Loki was healing.

Panting, Loki kissed him back, his soft, naked body pressed against Thor’s when he pulled him close. He twisted his tongue against his, touching his chest and his face in careful hands. Thor certainly wasn’t angry, and he was so glad for that. Almost as glad as he was that they were kissing.

“Gods, I love you,” Thor whispered, sliding his hands down his back. 

Loki giggled, nuzzling him gently. “Mmm… Thank you.” 

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” 

“I want to,” he said softly, meeting his mouth once more with a hungry, clumsy greed burning in his blood. 

Thor cupped his ass and squeezed, massaging his flesh with a quiet growl.

He moaned, pressing into his hands greedily. “Mmn!” 

“Oh, pretty boy… would you like to do it again?”

“Suck your cock?” He asked, large eyes blinking innocently.

“Yes, baby. Will you suck my cock again?”

Loki nodded, shy now that Thor was awake to watch him, but still eager to please him. 

He slipped down his body, pressing soft, lingering kisses to his stomach and his hips while his hands openly caressed his thighs.

“Thank you for letting me watch,” Thor purred. 

There was something special about seeing Loki in the morning light, the sun glowing on his skin as he prepared to swallow his cock. The lewd act clashed with how innocent he looked, and it only made Thor’s blood boil.

“Might be more fun to hear you really make noise for me,” he hummed. “You looked so pretty and tasted so good last night, but I want to hear you.” Just as he had the night before, Loki slid his lips around his shaft, mouthing along his cock slowly. 

“Fuck, look at how beautiful you are… that feels so good, your lips are like silk…”

Goosebumps rose on his skin from the praise alone, something he wasn’t used to wanting, something that was good and encouraging rather than horrifically controlling. 

He cradled his balls in one hand, careful not to squeeze too hard, and pulled his foreskin back to suck his head with a soft moan.

Thor let out a shuddering moan. His body trembled, slit leaking against Loki’s tongue. Those dark curls hung down, loose from their tie, and he reached out to tuck them behind Loki’s ear.

“You… you are so good at this. I love the way your mouth feels, the way you touch me, the way you tease. Oh Loki, don’t stop…”

“Practice,” he said with only a bit of pain in his eyes. He forgot it quickly as Thor’s large hand caressed his face. Loki pressed into his touch, nuzzling into his palm briefly, smirking. “I wouldn’t dare stop now. We’re just beginning.” He parted his lips and took him into his mouth, slowly bobbing his head to take what he could of his cock.

“That’s - oh, good boy! Look at me, let me watch you…”

Loki locked his eyes with Thor’s, the sunlight filtering through the window ignited the green in his eyes and the striking contrast of his black hair. He slowly took him down, gagging around him and pulling back with practiced ease.

Something stirred inside of Thor, something hungry and primal. Power surged through his veins, a shock of old magic that sparked along Loki’s tongue.

“Mm! Mmn,” he took him deeper, nearly to the hilt before he gagged again, drooling down his cock. He hollowed his cheeks and drew back, toying with his slit with the tip of his tongue.

His eyes began to glow a bright blue, just like at the market, and his cock throbbed in Loki’s small mouth. Thor moaned, gently tugging on Loki’s hair. He was close. Lightning arced along the surface of his skin, making his hair stand on end. Pleasure built in his gut, a fire he never wanted to quell.

Loki pulled back, his eyes wide, startled. “A-are you alright?” 

“I’m going to come, Loki,” Thor breathed. “Please… please don’t stop…”

He nodded quickly, sucking him down again and snarling as he swallowed him to the base, his eyes locked on the lights dancing in Thor’s.

Thunder rumbled in the sky. Thor cried out. A blinding light flashed as he came down Loki’s throat. Clouds began to gather outside. A storm, summoned strangely to coincide with Thor’s climax. 

Loki shut his eyes against the bright light, swallowing Thor’s come readily. 

The sudden storm startled him, the thunder shaking the house with a loud crack. He crawled up closer to Thor, as if to hide behind him while the rain began to patter against the windows.

“Looks like it’s a good day to stay inside and explore one another. Come, Loki. It’s your turn. Climb up and straddle my face.”

Loki nodded, straddling Thor's chest first and seeking a kiss.

“Mmn… I taste even better on your tongue,” Thor whispered. “Perhaps, if you do this for me again, I’ll teach you a naughty trick…”

"A trick?" He smiled, just a breath away from him. 

“Oh yes. Instead of swallowing… you kiss me.”

"Kiss you?" He said, head cocked. 

Thor nodded. “With your mouth full of my seed, you kiss me and force me to share it with you. I’ve never had someone do it to me, but… I’ve done it to other men.”

His eyes fluttered and he licked his lips. "I'd like to try that. Next time," he nodded. 

“Now, Loki. Come up here and fuck my face.”

Loki obeyed him, crawling up his body and straddling his face. 

Thor dragged his tongue along the skin behind his bollocks with a groan. He could taste Loki’s sweat, a delicious treat he savored as he kneaded Loki’s ass. 

"Oh! Oh,Thor!" He whined, sliding his fingers into his hair. 

He sucked Loki’s cock and balls into his mouth, his thick tongue sliding along the boy’s sensitive skin. Thor wanted nothing more than for Loki to thrust, to take control, to use his mouth as if he were nothing more than a hole for Loki to pleasure himself with.

Loki's hips bucked on their own, canting into his hot mouth greedily. "Mmph! Oh, fuck!" 

That’s what Thor needed, what he craved. His breath was hot against Loki’s belly as he jerked into his mouth. 

Loki covered his mouth to silence his cursing, hips rolling steadily as he fucked into Thor's mouth. It was so good, it felt so, so good and he was going mad. 

Thor reached up and pulled Loki’s hand away. He wanted the cursing, he wanted the noises, he wanted to listen to Loki’s ecstasy.

"I-I shouldn't swear," he hiccupped. 

All Thor could manage was a grunt of dismay. He wanted to hear those filthy words from Loki’s tongue.

He licked his lips. "Unless, unless you want me to-- Oh, fuck!" He sobbed. .

Now  _ that _ sounded beautiful. Thor moaned and sucked him eagerly, sliding his tongue along the curve of Loki’s soft, hairless balls.

Loki gasped, letting out a string of curses, encouraged by the pleasure. He whimpered, rocking helplessly, tugging Thor's hair. 

Energy sparked against his tongue. It shot along Loki’s cock, hot and tingling. Thunder roared outside of the cabin as his power grew.

"Ah! Oh, fuck, fuck!" He whimpered, the shock going up his spine and making his cock throb. He shuddered, coming with a loud shout of his name.

Thor pulled off and sighed happily. “Perfect, Loki. Absolutely perfect.”

Loki panted, his body trembling like gelatin and feeling much the same. He shakily moved back and collapsed on Thor's chest with a hum. "Mmn…" 

“Was that good, Loki?”

He smiled up at him, dazed. "Yes. Very good."

“I love you, Loki.”

Loki pressed soft kisses to Thor's chest, cooing at the taste of his skin. "I didn't know it could be this good," he said softly. 

“It can be, when you’re respected. Cared for. Love isn’t a requirement but it helps.”

He looked up at him, bright eyes warm and soft. "I didn't think I… I didn't think it was possible for someone to love me. To want to care for me like you do. I'm still worried I'm dreaming."

“This is real,” Thor assured him. “I’m real.”

Loki smiled and leaned up, kissing him deeply. "Mm. I know you are. Somewhat. Even if you are too good to be true."

“What? I am not. I’m average, Loki. You’re just not used to even that much kindness.”

"To me, you're everything. Whether I'm used to it or not, you're the only one that's ever, ever been kind to me. That's not average."

Thor tucked Loki’s hair behind his ear. He gazed at him with soft eyes, the blue bright despite the storm outside. “Okay, Loki.”

Loki pressed into his hand, his smile warm and adoring. He wasn't sure he knew what love was, but if it was anything like what he felt when Thor looked at him like that, it was wonderful. 

Outside, another harsh crack of thunder sounded over the house and he yelped, hiding his face in Thor's chest.

“It’s alright, Loki. Just an early spring shower. I’ve got you, and you're safe in these walls.”

Loki nodded slowly. "I, I'm not overly fond of thunder," he said softly, curling against his side. 

“Why not?”

"I don't know. It's too loud, too… too unpredictable and… and it always sounds angry."

“Let me tell you a secret. Thunder? It’s never angry at you. Never. You’re never its target. Thunder comes for the cruel. It heralds their end. And for you? It heralds the coming of rejuvenating rains. New beginnings. Growth.”

He nodded, listening to Thor, and only jumped a little when thunder rumbled again. "Storms...made the forest grow," he offered, slowly relaxing. 

“They bring water to the beasts and plants, they nourish the trees, they clean the waters of the fish… storms will protect you. I swear on that.”

Loki nodded, leaning against Thor's shoulders. "Storms listen to you," he said softly. 

Thor chuckled and kissed his hair. “They certainly seem to.”

"Why is that?" He asked, looking up at him. 

“I don’t know. My whole life, when I feel strongly… the storms come. My father used to joke that I must be a god of thunder or rain.”

Loki chuckled. "And people say I'm a witch," he teased. 

“You certainly have powers. Maybe I do too.”

He kissed his cheek. "I'll keep your secret," he promised. 

“Mmn… and I will keep yours, little one.”

He nodded, leaning against his chest and kissing him again. "I know you will."

“What do you want to do today?”

“I’m not sure. I like sitting here with you, just like this. But I am hungry,” he admitted, smiling softly. 

“I can’t let you starve, now can I? Let’s get dressed and I’ll make breakfast.”


	12. The Time Of Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki hatches a plan to escape the church for good, but Thor’s power carries unforeseen consequences - consequences Father Ebony intends for the boy to answer for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **HEADS UP, THE DARKNESS STARTS AGAIN AFTER THIS CHAPTER**.
> 
> This is the last lovely half-respite before the horror comes back into play. There’s a reason we stuffed it so full of fluff :3

Loki patted his belly, full and happy, Thor’s dark tunic hanging off one shoulder. “Thank you. It was delicious,” he grinned, setting his dishes in the sink. 

The storm outside picked up once again. The rain hissed louder and tapped against the ceiling, a low and gentle rumble of thunder carrying over the tops of the trees. The change caught the child’s attention, and he wanted to see more.

He toddled over to the back door and pushed it open, watching the rain fall with a soft awe. He took a few steps out, his bare feet touching dead leaves and moss while the cold, heavy drops fell on him. He turned his face up to the rain, the tie falling from his hair. His curls fell down his back and he took a deep breath, exhaling a cloud of fog.

Thor followed him, barefoot and shirtless. The rain pattered against his skin and rolled down in little rivulets, leaving shining trails in their wake. He watched Loki lower his guard and accept the storm, pink lips breathing in time with the thunder.

“This is my altar. This is my worship. I trust the rain to wash away my impurities, my fears, my losses.”

Loki opened his eyes but didn't speak or move otherwise. He knew worship when he saw it and he wasn't going to interrupt. 

Thunder shook the sky above, and Loki didn't jump. He smiled a little, curls soaked and dripping. 

"I understand," he said after a long bout of silence. "I… I'm not afraid."

Thor knelt down in the mud and stretched backward, bending until his arms touched the earth. He muttered a quiet prayer as he bared his body to the storm. In his element, in the woods that sheltered him, he gave himself as offering to the dark clouds overhead. 

And oh, how erotic he made it look.

Loki turned to watch him, his eyes sparkling, soaked through with a shiver beginning to come over him. He slowly wandered over to him, his tiny footprints left in the mud slowly filling with water, almost comically small beside Thor’s path. His soft, cool fingers ran along Thor’s arms, trailing up to his neck. He gently lifted Thor’s head just enough to press a deep kiss to his lips.

Thor whined and kissed him back. He reached up and cupped his wet hair, pulling him closer. He’d wanted this for what felt like ages - kissing Loki beneath an open sky, water splashing down against their skin, in a storm’s embrace. 

He could taste Thor on the raindrops soaking his skin, cradling his face as he kissed him over and over. He twisted his tongue into his mouth, groaning. 

Thor lowered himself to the mud and brought Loki with him. He guided him on top of his waist, gently rubbing against his groin.

"Mmn…" Loki moaned, not wanting to speak, not wanting to break this spell. 

With a low growl Thor rutted against him, nipping at his mouth as he slid his tongue against Loki’s. 

Loki felt the rumble in Thor's chest as it came with the storm above. It shook him, and he adored it. He melted against him, cold and seeking the heat radiating off Thor. 

“I love you,” Thor breathed, and lightning flashed across the sky.

“I love you,” Thor swore, and the winds began to howl around the cottage.

“I love you,” Thor chanted, and the storm swelled.

But it didn’t touch them. The cabin was safe. They were safe. The eye of the heavens focused on the pair of them as they kissed and grinned beneath the open sky.

Loki clung to him, keeping his eyes on Thor, and not on the storm. He kissed Thor between each proclamation, groaning against his mouth, whispering praises into his lips.

Thor curled up around Loki, rolling them over so that he covered Loki’s lithe little body with his own. He wanted him to see the sky, to watch as he released the power he struggled to keep inside him.

Above them the storm seemed to burst in a flash of bright blue lightning. It shattered out from the center, cutting through the rain and clouds. The sky glowed with the force and the water ceased. The sky cleared. One final rumble chased the last few clouds away.

He watched in pure wonder, mouth agape, his eyes darting around to try and take it all in. 

"Incredible," he whispered. "You're incredible."

“So are you, Loki.”

He chuckled. "I can't do that."

“You can stop time.”

He frowned. "Huh?"

Thor frowned right back at him through the curtain of his muddy hair. 

“You can stop time. When we were by the river, when I was all over you, and we were kissing, time around us stopped. The birds froze mid-flight. The river stilled. That was you, Loki.”

"I… I didn't mean to…" He spoke softly, looking away as if trying to remember if he did something or said something that could cause that. 

“I told you then that you did it. You have power, Loki, and it isn’t a curse.”

"...It's not?"

“Of course not. It makes you special. Strong. Blessed .”

"That's the first time I've heard that," he said softly. "But I, I believe you."

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Loki. Especially not about your worth.”

He kissed him again, soft, slow, holding his face. 

Thor cradled him in his arms, rocking him slowly in the fresh rays of sunlight finally reaching the woods. 

"I never want to leave," he breathed. "I don't want to…" 

“Then why not stay? The priests can’t hurt you here. If they come for you I will fell them like the mighty maples that ring the cabin.”

Loki cupped his cheek, his eyes sad. "I, I want that to be true. But… but we can't war with the whole village." He folded his lips, brow pinched. "I need to go back, just once. Not even for a full day, just...just long enough to convince them… it'll be quick. I'll be back before you know it."

Thor didn’t like the idea of Loki leaving, but he gave him a short nod anyway. He was right - if he didn’t make an appearance, they might burn down the town to find him. Despite their cruel worlds they certainly didn’t hate the boy. They coveted him. They depended on him.

He smiled sweetly, eyes warm and adoring. "Thank you."

“You’re welcome. You may want to dry off before you go.”

He giggled. "Maybe so. Do you still have the rags of my old clothes?" 

“Yes. They’re in the bin.”

He grinned, nodding g happily. "Wonderful," he nodded, easing off of him and rising. 

Thor went back to the cabin. He gathered Loki’s old clothes and set them by his bed. There. Now it wouldn’t hurt when he took them and dashed back to the village. Loki promised he wouldn’t be long, but Thor still worried. The IU couldn’t control the actions of the townsfolk. If one of them - or one of the clergy - decided to hurt him...

Loki followed Thor inside, softening as he folded his old clothes. He came up behind him and hugged him tight around the middle, squeezing. 

"On my life, I swear I will come back to you," he mumbled. 

“I trust you will. I’ll be here, Loki. Here or in town for market. You know how to find me.”

Loki smiled and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. "I'll be back before you can miss me," he promised. He scooped up his clothes and went out the door, quiet as smoke from a spent candle, swallowed up by the dense woods with one more dazzling smile over his shoulder. 

The forest fell silent. Quiet as any grave, missing something vital and mourning that loss. It wasn't complete with Loki gone, just as Thor wasn't. 

Loki ran toward the village, his plan forming behind his bright and mischievous eyes. 

The church wouldn't look for him if he was dead. Or believed he was dead. The river was mighty and took many children over its lifetime; why shouldn't the town wretch fall victim to it, leaving nothing behind but a smear of blood on stone and the ratty shirt he wore?

It wouldn't take much at all. He'd be seen walking around, people would take note of him and the whispers would reach Father Ebony and, hopefully, he wouldn't catch him until it was too late. The evil child would be forgotten and haunt the banks and the forest it fed into. No one would come near. Thor would be safe. It was perfect. 

But the evils of man and the mischief of a boy never quite measured up. Had Loki thought of this sooner, it may have worked. But his absence brought malice, and fear.

The boy had vanished and the entire village had fallen to ruin. 

It began with farmland. The crops were gone, nearly all of them. The deluge from scattered, unpredictable and violent storms that plagued them washed every sapling, every sprout, every scrap of food away. Nothing but the stores of grain and flour remained, the useless acres of fields unable to yield anything for some time. 

The cattle went next. The persistent cold and rain spread sickness and stress through the animals. They dropped dead in droves, bringing the stink of death to hang over Asgard like a cloud. 

Fishing was also impossible. The Bifrost, which had always blessed them with plentiful bounties, had become a roaring, violent wasteland that would show no mercy in who it carried off or pulled under its blackened depths. It swelled and flooded homes, the constant damp eating them from the inside out. 

The wet and din brought ravens, pecking at the corpses of animals and those who washed ashore from the water, clearly the scavenging familiars of the wicked boy who must be somewhere watching their devastation.

Babes who were made weak by their birth in the winter months couldn't survive these new terrors. The sick house was bursting with the old and ill, plagued with violent coughs and fevers. The work of imps and devils conjured by the child. 

The death knell rang almost constantly. It seemed every day bore the weight of another funeral, another grave filled, another bought of sorrow filling the air. 

God was punishing them for not cleansing themselves of this evil before. The devil had been allowed to run rampant in the guise of an innocent, and no amount of blessings, of penance, of guilt, could bring the child to salvation. 

Father Ebony lamented the time wasted, the suffering endured trying to save the boy's soul, but he could not cure the land’s sickness. His preaching was the only solace Asgard had, desperately looking for leadership, guidance, and someone to blame their plight on. 

Satan had taken hold, Ebony assured. The boy needed to be cleansed, made pure by the trials put forth, suffer as the rest of them had suffered and then, only then, would they be free from evil and regain God's favor once more. Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live, after all. If it came to it, if he failed these tests of witchcraft, he would be made pure by fire, and they would be free. 

Father Ebony and the rest of his clergy swore every tragedy was the child's doing. The babes that died every year, tiny and teeming with promise, had their souls swallowed up by the witch rather than unfortunate and expected circumstance. 

He had killed them to give him more power and show his loyalty to Lucifer. The fire that had erupted not two days before and taken three lives, another sacrifice. Insects infesting rotten crops and damp beds, blizzards, storms, any and every death of a living thing, was the cherub-faced demon's doing. 

The fear ran through the village like a bleeding, putrid river. It infected them, all of them, swallowed their humanity and turned them into monsters. They were ready to follow Ebony blindly and purge themselves of this horror. It festered and bubbled, coiling in their bellies like snakes ready to strike. 

And all of this came to horrific fruition the moment Loki set foot in the village. 

The sharp stench of fear surprised him. It hung thick in the air, held there by the eerie, suffocating silence that greeted him. He saw no one, heard nothing but the caw of a raven. The jagged outlines of burnt homes clawed at the sky, the ruins of animals piled up horrifically along the outlying fence. 

Something horrible had happened, and it wasn't something he cared to learn more about. 

Just as he was about to turn and run back to the forest, a clawed hand twisted into his hair and jerked him along the muddy lane. 

"You will pay for what you've done!" Sister Proxima hissed gleefully. "And repent for your sins, boy. I'll bet you’ll smell sweet when you burn!"

"Let go! Let me go, now! Get off of me!" He screamed and thrashed, clawing at her hand, which earned him a hard strike to his face that sent him reeling. 

Lights popped in front of his eyes as he was hauled to the center of the village, where a crowd was already gathered. Father Ebony stood on a mounted platform before the church, yelling and gesturing, working everyone into a frenzy. 

Father Ebony stood before the gathering of villagers in his finest robes, his arms outstretched and his face turned to the sky as he preached. The crowd wanted answers for the curses on their property and their crops. It never occurred to them that Loki’s  _ absence  _ was the issue. No, it must be his presence despite no one seeing him for several weeks.

Time in the Forest didn’t pass the same as the time outside. The realization sent ice through his veins. What felt like mere days had been weeks. Thor’s storms were catastrophic to the world beyond the boughs. Did he know? Did he have any idea of his strength? 

Loki continued to fight harder the closer he was brought to Ebony. He cursed and twisted and clawed and bit at the nun who didn't seem to even notice Loki was hurting her. His fear choked him, his breaths quick and panicked. 

“There! The witch is caught! Our misfortune is coming to an end, good people of the church! Did I not promise we would hunt the wretched boy down? And here he is, thanks to the diligence of Sister Proxima.”

He could smell it in the air now, their hate, their list for his blood. Too much time had passed, time that did not make sense and only empowered his fear. 

Proxima dragged Loki up the steps to the stage proper, tearing at his hair and throwing him down at Ebony's feet. 

“We tried to cleanse him. We did, but to no avail. No ritual would purify his blackened soul, no anointment could chase away the evil festering inside him. This boy is beyond saving. His very existence is a curse upon us! His life drains the life from our animals, from our crops, from our most vulnerable!”

He shook his head, looking up at him and out at the crowd. "No! No I didn't do anything, I'm not evil!"

“Lies!” Someone in the crowd shouted.

“Perhaps the wretched thing doesn’t realize his sins. Perhaps the devil has blinded the boy.”

Father Ebony withdrew a vial of holy water from the depths of his robes.  Proxima forced the boy's head back, her other hand holding his eyes open. Ebony smirked  and upended it over Loki’s eyes. 

“I will make you see, Loki! I will show you the depths of your depravity!”

Loki screamed. It burned. It shouldn't, but it did. They'd tampered with it somehow to make him look like a true monster - the scent of lemon clung to the water. He fought to close his eyes and rid them of the pain. 

“You see?!” Father Ebony called. “He is tainted! Wicked! Our blessed water burns his flesh!”

The crowd hissed and jeered. Some women screamed, children bawled. Ebony’s eyes sparkled with malice. It was working - they cared not that Loki was a child. They feared him and his power. If he could press him, push him, coax him to lash out…

“Born of no human mother, Loki arrived during the worst blizzard in the town record. Many died in the frost, many crops and animals were lost. And now, when he vanishes, the worst rain in the town record! Insects, devouring our supplies! Chickens mangled by beasts, godly people drowning, whole homes washed out, and balls of lightning burning our stables! We cannot survive more disasters! These are acts of god, dissuading us from sheltering the beast! These terrible storms will destroy our town if we do not kill the witch!”


	13. The First Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Ebony begins the grueling task of “cleansing” the young Witch, Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **THIS CHAPTER DEPICTS GRAPHIC TORTURE AND RAPE! YOU CAN SKIP THIS CHAPTER IF YOU WANT TO GET TO THE COMFORT! We’ll let you know when it’s safe to read again if you’re avoiding the dark chapters, we promise. Thanks for sticking with us and with Loki and Thor!**

As he listened Loki paled, shaking his head, his eyes ablaze with pain. "N-no! No, I didn't do those things! I didn't hurt anyone!' He yelled, pleading to no avail. "I wish you no harm! Please!" 

Father Ebony motioned with his fingers. At his signal Father Cull stepped forward, dragging heavy chains behind him. 

“We will prove his evil, and we will cleanse Asgard of his curse!”

Loki was paralyzed now, horrified at what was happening, what was being done. The chains dragged heavily on the wood, scraping and clanging together menacingly in the priest’s massive hands. His eyes seemed to glow in pure delight, drinking in Loki’s fear with a twisted grin on his already horrible face. 

He screamed, a burst of frantic energy surging from him in a wave that knocked the large man clean off his feet. The pitch and force of it pierced through the crowd’s ears, leaving everyone near dazed and crying out in their own panic.

Grunting, Cull shoved himself off the ground and plucked up the chains, stomping toward him to try again. Loki took another breath, but before he could scream again he was cut off by something sharp, cold and hard being forced into his mouth, the heavy sound of a lock being shut following quickly. “This will keep you silent, banshee,” Father Ebony hissed, holding tight until he was certain the device was secure. 

A witch's bridle. Small, seemingly fashioned just for him from a single strip of iron. A muzzle for the damned to keep any curses or hexes from reaching ‘innocent’ ears. 

They'd been planning this. 

Father Cull restrained Loki to the two posts in the middle of their perverse stage. He wrapped the chains around his wrists and ankles, posing him with limbs splayed. Proxima handed him a thin, glinting blade and, with a cold grin, he slowly dragged the blade up Loki’s clothes and ripped them from his prone body.

The small boy was strung up, spread eagle and trembling. The blade bit into the cloth of his shirt and he shook his head, pleading wordlessly as his clothes, gifted and made just for him, were turned to rags and fell away in pieces.

He sobbed, trying to hide his nakedness while he was jeered and laughed at by the onlookers. They wanted this. All of them. 

“You, good people of Asgard,” Ebony began while Cull worked, “will bear witness to the Lord as we begin these trials! You will see, and you will know what must be done!”

Slowly, with as much ceremony and purpose as he could give it, Ebony stepped behind the makeshift lectern and withdrew a flail. The strips of leather were hard, barely used, and glinted in the firelight. He stood behind the boy, who strained to see what was coming and jerked in the chains when he realized, his sobs growing with his panic.

“The devil will be cleaned from you, child,” he announced. “And your sacrifice of blood is just the beginning.”

The whip came down and Loki shrieked, his tender flesh ripping open. 

Blood splattered against Ebony’s face as he drew his arm back for another strike. He whipped Loki with the flog again, and again, smiling sweetly with every scream and each new laceration that split beneath his blows.

Loki's scream echoed into the bridle. He shook with pain, screaming and writhing wordlessly, blood dripping down his back, tears slipping from his eyes. 

The other priests uttered prayers to drown out his cries. Some of the townsfolk lent their voices to the chant, giving it a haunting echo. Even so, Loki’s loud sobs rang clear and loud over the din. Every villager was forced to hear his suffering. The bit did nothing to silence him, despite the way it cut into his lips. 

“Stop it!” One voice, one lone quaking voice begged from the crowd. “Stop it, he’s just a child!” The woman he’d bought flowers from what felt like a lifetime ago. She was straining against the arms of men holding her back. 

“Silence!” Corvus snarled. “Lest you wish to join him!” 

“Please--” One of the men holding her brought his hand across her face, knocking her to the ground to silence her. She fell to her knees, clutching her belly to protect the baby within. 

Loki could barely understand what was happening through his fog of pain. He saw the woman on the ground, saw a different man shove the one who had struck her and help her up, taking her away while giving Loki a helpless, pitying look. They were too outnumbered to do a damn thing.

Another crack of the whip forced him back into the hell he was enduring, another scream tearing from his raw throat.

The throbbing, immeasurable pain that washed over him clouded his mind entirely, suffocating his magic. Whatever he’d tried to do to Cull, enduring all of this, it had taken his power from him, just as each stroke of the whip continued to do. 

He couldn’t reach out to Thor as he could have just an hour ago. He couldn’t find the strength to punish these people or help himself escape. He could do nothing but scream and bawl, wholly consumed by this agony. 

He tasted blood from his mouth, smelled it in the air. His bright eyes, bloodshot and stinging, locked onto the priests with more hatred than he could ever express. 

He took each stroke of the whip on his innocent flesh, rocking and shrieking, limp in the chains soon, until the world began to darken, his mind trying to save him and his body from this nightmare. 

The screams faded to whimpers, like embers dying in a hearth.

“Sister Proxima. The salts, please.”

Again, with an air of purpose, Proxima dramatically knelt before Loki and lifted his jaw. “No rest for your wicked hide yet, pet. We aren’t done for the day.”

Loki weakly twisted away from her, shivering and trying to move where she couldn’t reach him. The metal of the bridle clacked loudly as he tried. 

She waved a bottle of herbs beneath his nose, coaxing him to full consciousness.

He inhaled and grunted, twisting away from her grasp and coughing as the awful smell overcame him and sent needles into his head, pricking at him to wake him and force him to endure. 

The small break was enough for some of the villagers to stagger away, haunted, frightened, unsure what God wanted but too frightened to raise the question in case they were to suffer the same fate. 

Ebony set the flail down and tangled a hand in Loki’s soft hair. “Now, we must attempt to give the child sacrament.”

He hissed in pain, glaring up at him and breathing heavily through flared nostrils. 

As the villagers watched, Father Ebony stripped down to his underclothes and set his robes on the lectern. All their curious eyes followed him as he made his way back to the spot occupied by the bleeding Loki.

The pain thundered through him, throbbing with each beat of his heart, the blood and heat coming from his wounds dizzying. He felt sick, even before he realized what this horrible man was going to do to him. 

He gripped his jaw with one hand and removed the bit with the other, his grin sickening. 

Fear threatened to overwhelm the child, and as he pushed it down, the bridle being removed, it gave way to anger.

“What could be more holy than the seed of the Lord? Open, Loki, and drink from me.”

He stared up at him, letting the blood collect in his mouth. No, he wouldn’t. Not without a fight, not this time. 

Without breaking his gaze he lifted his head and spat the blood onto him, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. 

“The whelp resists my holy influence! The witch defies the will of God! But we must persist, my children, we must!” Father Ebony dropped his trousers, forced Loki’s bloody mouth open, and rubbed the tip of his head along Loki’s tongue. 

“Accept my care, my cleansing spirit! Accept my seed!”

He fought him, jerking and trying to bite down as hard as he could. One hard thrust from the priest and he wouldn’t be able to even try. 

Father Ebony thrusted hard, burying his cock in Loki’s throat. He forced it as deep as it would go, choking him, cutting off his air. His eyes rolled back in bliss.

“Take it, unholy demon. Accept my blessed shaft and drink of its seed…”

Loki choked and gagged, immobile as he was violated. 

And everyone, so many people he’d seen every day, watched. He'd been so afraid for so long that no one would believe him if he told them what these men had been doing to him, but he never once thought that even if he did, they wouldn't care. Or stop it. 

Tears rolled down his face, hands clenching into fists. What a fool he was to ever leave Thor's side. 

He continued to gag and cough, drool and blood running down his chin, unable to sob or breathe. 

Murmurs erupted through the crowd as the priest fucked Loki’s hot little mouth. Many averted their eyes. Some left, holding their stomachs or covering their mouths. God was righteous, and this must be too, but they couldn’t watch anymore. 

A small crowd was left behind. They stared rapt, salivating at the sight of the child being raped. There were villagers very openly touching themselves, men and women alike, moaning as Loki sobbed. 

There was no God in Asgard. He’d never been more certain. 

Dark lust filled the remaining crowd, their lecherous desire open and searing. Father Ebony’s cock grew harder as he turned his eyes to the villagers.

He cried and cried, begging the stars for it to end. Their moans made him sick, their lust stinging his nostrils worse than the salts had. How could they do this? How could they want this? Touch themselves to it? How could this, any of it, be holy?

That was the truth, of course - nothing about the church nor its fanatics could honestly be called “holy”. They wanted power, control, and wealth. Their followers wanted the moral superiority that came with being told they were  _ right _ . No one would rise against the church, nor the comfortable center of Asgardian society.

Loki was alone. 

Far away in the woods, Thor’s heart ached. He set down his tools and closed his eyes. He hoped Loki was safe, whatever he was doing. Every sound in the Forest seemed too quiet, too dull - without Loki’s curiosity, without his energy, everything felt faded and distant. The emptiness echoed deep in his chest, and while he couldn’t shake the idea that something wasn’t right, it had only been a short time since Loki left. He would come back and his anxieties would ease again. 

He could never have known what they were doing to him now.

Father Ebony thrust harder, fucking Loki’s tight throat with reckless abandon. Lust burned in his pale eyes, wicked and cruel as he neared his climax. Seed for the wretch, cum for the little slut to drink.

“Prepare yourself to receive my blessing, you wicked thing…”

Loki screamed around him, trying to pull away, gagging and choking back bile. 

Grunting, Father Ebony came hard down Loki’s throat. Thick, hot, his seed was almost too much for Loki’s little mouth.

He coughed, bile and semen coming out his nose and burning horribly. 

The moment his mouth was empty of the priest's cock he vomited, crying as he retched and heaved, his little body shaking all over. 

"Leave me alone, leave me be, please!" He begged. 

Father Ebony slapped him hard. His flagging cock twitched as the sound echoed around him.

“The bridle, please.”

Father Corvus handed it to him and he forced it back over Loki’s head. 

“We should anoint him, brothers. Before God and all the poor people he’s afflicted with his foul magics.”

Corvus and Cull surrounded Loki. They drew their cocks free as well, grinning wickedly down at the bloodied boy. With very little ceremony they emptied their bladders, pissing on his upturned face and open wounds. 

Loki shook his head, pleading wordlessly into the metal that cut his mouth anew. 

He shut his eyes, fighting to turn away, but Corvus held the bridle tight, making sure he couldn't bow his head. 

The horrid smell stung his nostrils, choking on it and the humiliation he felt. 

He'd done nothing to them. To any of them. And he was being punished for it, because God said so. He hated God. He hated this village. He hated the people. 

He wanted it all to burn. 

In one last weak, flailing attempt, the torch behind them fell suddenly, rolling onto the wooden platform Loki was chained to and igniting it. It was small, easily put out, but it was enough to make the crowd shriek.

Proxima gasped. She took a heavy blanket from one of the chairs and patted the fire out as quickly as she could manage.

“And still the devil holds him in his clutches,” Father Ebony cried, still pissing on Loki’s hair. “Tonight’s trials are concluded! While the boy rests, feel free to punish him yourselves. Nude, prostrate, he will not defy you. Cleansing him of sin is commanded by God! Do what you will, force him to take penance!”

Loki hung his head, trembling in the cold air, wet, bloody, reeking and sobbing. 

His dignity was gone, stolen away like the light in his eyes. He wouldn't even be allowed something as simple as a prison cell. Instead he was at the village's mercy, naked and bound and silent. He could only hope to be left alone. 

Men made their way up the platform, women joining their throng. They fucked every hole they could find on Loki - including cuts left by the flog. They fucked themselves on his little cock, they spit down his throat, they pleasured themselves all night and gave the poor child no time to rest.

Hands groped and squeezed every inch they could reach. Loki felt fingers inside him, in his cunt, in the slit of his cock, down his throat, gripping his tongue. Laughter and moans mingled together so thoroughly he couldn’t tell where the sounds began and ended. Cocks rubbed against his soiled skin, pussies covered his face and grinded against Loki’s nose and gag. 

To the throng of worshippers he was nothing more than a toy. A whore.

By the time they were through, his eyes were swollen from crying, his face soaked in come, piss, spit, sweat and tears. Any innocence he'd held onto had been ripped away by greedy hands, mouths and genitals. His own were raw, groin bleeding along with his torn anus and mangled back. 

The kind, gentle touches Thor had offered were gone, replaced by these horrors. 

Now he was truly ruined. Filth no one would want. He was better off dead. He wished he were.

When they finally left him it was dawn, and he was so weak he couldn't lift his head. His swollen eyes were shut, blackness taking him at last to bring him even a little peace.


	14. Needles and Scripture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki faces two more trials and the looming threat of further church involvement in his accusations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS RAPE AND TORTURE.**
> 
> This introduction of the Archbishop is something we’ve been sitting on for like. Five months lmao. We hope you stick with us and the story, even if it may be slightly different from what you were expecting. 
> 
> If you follow me on Twitter you know I’m a sucker for... you’ll see. :3 
> 
> -Johnny

When the sun rose in the sky Proxima brought Loki water and plain stew. Not to help him, never - she was under orders to keep him alive until the trials concluded. Until the Archbishop judges him. Otherwise this wouldn’t be a witch hunt.

It would be murder.

“Drink, boy,” she ordered, her voice cold. “You need your strength today.”

Her voice made his eyes snap open and he glared up at her. He didn't speak when the gag was removed, just drank what was given to soothe his bruised throat and lacerated mouth. 

“That’s it… The trials resume at noon. I suggest getting what rest you can."

"Why are you doing this?" Loki whispered, hateful gaze locked on her. "You know it's not true. All of you."

She stared at him, her tumultuous eyes dark and cruel. 

“The Archbishop has taken an interest in your case. We’re doing as he has ordered - putting you through the tests. Although with your little display last night, it’s merely a formality.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, shaking all over. "You could kill me now. Right now. No one would see. No one would know. None but you, me, and your God. Does he think it righteous? Killing children? You're a joke, Sister. A coward. And so is your fucking God."

He looked away with indifference, as if she were a mere nuisance, and readied himself to take the bit again. 

“... Well. I suppose he didn’t say we couldn’t have fun with you while we waited.”

Proxima lifted the hem of her habit and hooked a leg over Loki’s shoulder. With her free hand she gripped his hair and forced his face into her dripping cunt. She rocked her hips, rutting against his soft lips and letting his nose rub against her nerves.

“You are nothing… just a little witch rapidly losing power. You are weak. You are  _ ours _ . Remember your place, whelp.”

Loki grunted and fought, so weak and tired, hardly having the strength to attempt to turn his head, let alone truly fight her off. 

Instead he struggled to breathe, crying, gagging. She was right. Of course she was right. Whatever ‘power’ he had, if he had any really at all, was drained and useless, and so was he. He was a nameless wretch no one wanted, hated and tossed away like trash, able to be tortured and abused like this with no one to care about him. 

If Thor were here, none of this would have happened. But now that it had, surely he wouldn’t want him anyway. 

His stomach churned with what he’d just eaten, but he couldn’t vomit. He needed the food too much, he couldn’t allow himself to get sick. He settled for biting her, just once, with what he could muster in strength to get her away from him. 

“You wretched little bitch!”

Proxima grabbed the bridle and slammed it into his jaw. His skin split with the force of the blow. She sneered down at him, hatred burning in her gaze.

Loki cried out, blood pouring down his face, his eyes daggers for her. He spat at her feet, hot tears streaking his face. 

“You’ll pay for that today. I will see to that.” She forced the bridle back into his mouth and stormed off.

His face throbbed, the bridle too tight on his swollen jaw. He kept his head up and his eyes open until she was gone. 

He went limp, hanging his head. He tried to imagine this was a nightmare, that he was truly back in the cabin, nestled in bed beside Thor, who would soothe him when he woke. 

He would kiss him and cradle him close, promising that he would never let such awful things happen to him. He would swear he was safe and give him something sweet to eat for breakfast and all would be forgotten. 

These thoughts were enough to soothe him into falling unconscious, getting something akin to sleep for the few hours reprieve he had.

By noon the din of the crowd was too loud to ignore. More had gathered. In the light of the new day they seemed more willing to stomach the atrocities enacted by the clergy. This was ordained by God, after all.

Loki was dragged from sleep like a bag of sand being hauled uphill. He opened his eyes, squinting in the bright sunlight until his eyes adjusted. 

Father Ebony climbed the platform in his ceremonial robes and held his arms wide. The crowd fell silent, watching him intently. 

“Gentlefolk of Asgard, today we begin our trials anew. This first is simple - a needle inserted under the nails. If he feels no pain, he is in fact a witch.”

He looked out at the crowd as Ebony spoke, not reacting beyond a light shudder. At least this would be easy. Of course it would hurt.

Ebony produced a needle from his sleeves and approached Loki. He knelt beside him and took one of his soft, small hands in his own. 

“This needle has been sterilized and blessed during morning mass. It is holy, it is sharp. And now we will see how the accused reacts.”

With careful precision he slipped the needle beneath Loki’s nail.

A blunt tip poked at his skin.

There would be no pain, not today. Not from this skewed test.

Loki recoiled on instinct, waiting for the sharp, biting pain that came with a needle prick, but it didn’t come. There was no point on the needle he was using, he’d altered it. He didn’t wince or hiss as one would, he just stared at him in horror. 

His pleading eyes turned next to the crowd, silently begging them to understand, to see what he’d done and know it was pretense and lies. He shook his head, twisting in the chains.

“Ah… no blood. No cries. You see?! He’s protected from the prick of blessed steel!”

Silenced, muzzled, he could only rapidly shake his head and grunt. Lies, lies, lies! 

Father Ebony did every finger, and a few stray freckles on Loki’s arms and chest. The crowd roared. This was proof, proof their misfortune was the cause of the wicked boy.

“The trial of the needle - a failure!”

He hung his head, tears slipping onto the wooden platform beneath him. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He was dead no matter what he did. It wouldn’t stop the pain, it wouldn’t stop the torture, it wouldn’t make them believe anything other than what they already did if he could speak. 

So he just...stopped trying.

“Our next trial is, of course, the trial of Scripture. The young Loki will be asked to recite several passages from his Bible by memory. Errors are proof the Devil holds his tongue and blasphemes against the word of God.”

Father Ebony smiled down at him, his expression almost gleeful as he opened the bridle and took it away so he could speak. 

“Your verses, child, are Genesis 2:24, and the Song of Solomon, 1:12.”

Loki spat blood that had collected in his mouth onto the ground so he could speak. “‘Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh,’” he rasped, coughing hard. 

Another rattling breath, and he continued, “‘A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, he shall abide between my breasts.’” He felt sick all over again, knowing what he was doing, what he was making him say in attempt to humiliate him further. It was working, honestly.

Something...snapped. Something primal and deep within the boy that he couldn’t control, that he didn’t even know existed. But this thing, this instinct, reared its ancient, infuriated head, and let the boy rest while it took over him. 

Loki glared up at him, at his smirk, and smiled back at him. 

Then, he began to laugh, quietly chuckling at first and building into something heartier. 

He cackled, actually, throwing his head back to bark at the sky in a shrill, inhuman sound. “Fuck you, Priest!” He giggled, manic. “And fuck your god! You will pay for what you’ve done here,  _ and no being from your little book will save you from the TRUE HEL I BRING TO THEE!”  _

The last of his words were spoken in an archaic, long dead tongue Loki had no knowledge of learning. It rattled his bones and tore from his throat like the venom of a potent snake, the beast inside of him lashing out in the only way it could to protect the child. It was both part of him and separate from him, aware and not, relying entirely on the adrenaline of survival.

_ “I AWAIT THE MOMENT I DEVOUR YOUR FLESH! I WILL FEAST ON EVERY CORPSE, DRAIN EVERY DROP OF BLOOD UNTIL EVERY ONE OF YOU IS PILED AT MY FEET! HEAR ME, MORTALS AND KNOW THE TRUE SUFFERING MY WINTERS WILL BRING!”  _ He snarled at the villagers, jerking in his chains at them, and blacked out. 

Villagers screamed and broke, rushing aware from the square. Ebony and the others were shoved off the dias by an unseen force. A cold, biting wind began to rise, spiraling outward, bringing a wall of ice and snow with it that quickly engulfed the town. Soon, nothing could be seen but white, nothing felt but the bitter wind stealing breath and freezing everything it touched.

Loki’s pale skin began to change. A rich blue spread from his chest, along his arms and down his quivering thighs until his entire being had changed. Light white markings shone, glowing even through the blizzard. Two small horns sprouted just beneath his hairline. His eyes opened, red as the blood he proclaimed he craved, turned up to the sky with a vacant expression on the rest of his transformed face.

Sister Proxima crawled towards the church as quickly as she could in pure terror. Cull followed her on foot, having difficulty staying upright despite his massive size. Corvus and Ebony could only stare at Loki in horror.

“A… a true demon…” He said, disbelieving, but so gleeful he’d been right he couldn’t contain his grin. “Corvus! Get back to the cathedral. Draft a letter to the Archbishop! We need to move fast! It’s worse than we suspected!”

The ground split and cracked under the sudden frost, the wind blowing through the entire village, seeking every corner one might think is safe or warm and stealing it away in an instant. It took mere minutes for the blizzard to engulf everything and make every soul wonder if this was the end. If this winter would take their souls to hell where this boy had climbed up from. 

And then it stopped. 

The snow ceased, the clouds departed and the sun came out again to begin to melt what he had wrought.

Loki’s skin returned to its pale alabaster, the ice on his chains making him quake with chill. It was as if nothing happened, and the poor child had no idea what he’d done, what his body had tried to do with the limited energy it had, to save him. 

With Loki slumped, Father Ebony took advantage of his weakened state. He undid the chains and slung Loki over his shoulder. With speed almost unimaginable for his age, Ebony rushed the boy back to the Church with the others. 

Down to the cellar. Down to the hidden hatch. Down deeper to the ancient cells resting beneath the necropolis. No light could be found here, no breath of life, not even the echoes of footsteps from the floors above could offer any sort of reprieve. Beyond the priest’s shaky breaths, there was nothing here.

Digging in his robes he withdrew the keys to the church, finding one that was rusted, thick and covered in grime from lack of use. He shoved it into the door of the nearest cell, grunting as he shoved it open. The hinges squealed, the air stirring for the first time in decades. 

He laid Loki down on the dusty earth and closed the gate.

“We’ll see what the Archbishop has to say about you. Vile thing, whatever monster you may be, he will cleanse you. He will purify your body in ways we cannot. He will break you, as you deserve.”

Ebony’s bony fingers released the bars and he left Loki alone in darkness.

* * *

Loki woke later, and was frightened for a moment, thinking he'd gone blind. It was so, so dark, and so, so silent. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, this oppressive and inescapable black, that he immediately began to cry. 

He crawled, slowly, painfully, trying to gauge where he was. Perhaps he'd died, and this was Hel. 

His head hit the bars of the cell first and he whimpered, walking his hands up to feel the entirety of the door. A jail. A cell of some kind somewhere unknown. 

“H-hello?” He called, the stale air foul on his tongue. His voice barely echoed in the room, which only scared him more. He half-dragged himself to the corner of the room, exhausted, hungry, his head pounding along with all of his other wounds, and curled into a ball. 

Sobs wracked his tiny frame, his fear surrounding him like a bubble. All he could do was wait, bleed, starve, and hope for a merciful death.

* * *

Every day Father Ebony brought him a scoop of tepid water and a chunk of stale bread, as well as some jerky. Enough to sustain him. He only ever left a torch when he fucked him through the rusted bars of his new cage. 

He devoured every morsel he was given, even as he shook with fever from his infected wounds, knowing that every moment he lived was another victory. 

Fighting the assaults at this point were nothing more than weak shoves and quiet whimpering. 

If he asked for mercy he would be muzzled. If he begged for water his head would be shoved in a bucket until his lungs threatened to burst. If he pleaded for a bath he would be pissed on, and if he asked for clothes his arse would be switched raw. 

Loki lashed out one day, feral and animalistic, snapping and snarling to regain any power. He was bound to a chair and sheared like an animal, his long, soft curls falling to the dirt while he bawled. The last of his humanity and any dignity he’d held was gone. 

He wanted to die now. Or be let go. He was so hideous and foul now no one would want him. Thor would see this scarred, emaciated, bald and naked thing he'd become and chase him away, roaring and threatening to skin him like the other beasts if he came near. 

No one could love him.

If the priests had been looking to break him they’d done it. He was so utterly exhausted and used up he didn’t speak, didn’t move, didn’t ask for anything anymore. Now he was just...waiting to die.

Then, beyond a door Loki couldn’t see, he heard voices. One he didn’t recognize among others he did, and despite the spike of terror that shot through him he didn’t move beyond pulling his knees to his chest. 

With a loud creak and the jingling of keys, Loki heard the door swing open and winced against the torchlight that flooded the jail.

“Loki,” called Father Ebony, his haunting voice brimming with smug satisfaction, “you have a visitor. He’s very interested in your… display, in the town square.”

He swanned into the basement and bowed low before the man following behind him. Though smaller than Cull he stood with more grace and power. Eyes of a pale violet seemed to glow in the flickering flames of Father Ebony’s torch. 

His black hair seemed to shine with the same violet sheen. It was pulled into a loose ponytail, several strands framing his face. His robes were gold and white and it seemed the mud of the city could not touch him. The stranger waved his hand dismissively at Father Ebony and approached the cell.

“Hello, little one.”

His voice vibrated through Loki much like Thor’s did. Though softer, it carried the same timbre and strength. It was coarse, like wet sand, in a strangely soothing way.

And each word he spoke with purpose was pregnant with threat.

“Father Ebony tells me you summoned a blizzard.”

Loki stared at the stranger, both afraid and intrigued. Though he had never seen him before, Loki gathered that this was the archbishop. He wasn't at all what he thought he would be. He expected another weedy, simpering husk of a man like Ebony was, not this tall, broad and handsome man looking at him now. 

It took a moment for his throat to find the strength to make any noise. "I don't remember doing that," he croaked, his voice shattered and painful to listen to. 

“You don’t? That’s surprising. Do you remember anything about that day? Anything at all? Every bit of information helps me.”

"Sister Proxima gave me food. Made me lick her body. I didn't want to. I bit her. She got mad. She gagged me. Left. I fell asleep. I woke up. Father Ebony pricked me with a fake needle. Said I was a witch. Made me recite verses. I did. I was angry. Then...nothing.”

"Woke up down here." He spoke flatly, without life or emotion, staring at one spot on the dirt floor. 

“She made you… lick her.” The man turned a scathing gaze toward Father Ebony. “You and your clergy have been raping this boy.”

“N-no! No, of course not! Archbishop Thanos, we would never -“

“What is your name, little one?”

"Loki," he croaked. 

“Loki. Did the clergy here rape you?”

He nodded, a few tears straying to his cheeks. "Over and over and over and over and over…" He kept muttering, trailing off eventually. 

“If they touch you again, I’ll have them drawn and quartered in the town square. You’re just a child… After the trials they’ll be excommunicated. You have my word, Loki.”

Thanos seemed gentle. Kind. Had he really ordered the trials? Had Proxima lied?

"Why?" He croaked, bloodshot and hollowed eyes staring at him from the dark. 

This man was...strange. Saying strange things, things that went against what the church taught and said. He spoke so kindly but he sanctioned this. The flogging, the pin pricks, the torture. 

“Demons, witches, sinners, we all must be purified. This is true. But hurting you like that does nothing to cleanse you. It’s pleasure. These priests, these nuns, they’re using the trials to slake their own lust. 

“Lust which is unholy.”

He looked away, so tired, and evidently so foolish. Part of him had always believed their lies, all of them, and knowing that for sure now made this worse. 

The knowledge couldn't take it away, though. It didn't undo what happened. And he was still locked behind iron bars, still sick, still in horrible pain, still naked, still doomed. 

“Tonight you’ll sleep in the rectory. Ebony!” He barked, glaring at the priest. “The key. Now.”

Trembling, afraid for the first time Loki had ever seen, Father Ebony produced the key and handed it over to Archbishop Thanos. He unlocked Loki’s cell and offered him his hand.

He stared at it, confused, frowning as his eyes flicked between his outstretched hand and his eyes. A trick. It was a trick in a game he didn't know how to play. He didn't move. 

“I won’t force you, little one. If you’d rather stay in the dark…”

"N-no! No." He took his hand.

Thanos gently pulled Loki into his arms and stood with him. Even through his robes Loki could feel his broad, muscular chest. He was more fit than even Thor. He was warm, his robes soft, and he gave Loki a soft smile.

He didn't understand any of this. Not an ounce of it. But it wasn't cold pressed against his strong body, and he didn't hurt him when he picked him up. He went limp, so very, very weak. 

“Let’s get you a warm bed and a proper meal then. I will guard you - none of these sick devils will bother you while you rest.”

He carried Loki back up, through the different levels of the Church until they reached the rectory.


	15. Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archbishop Thanos treats Loki’s wounds, pulling him from the brink of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! We had a lot of editing to do - some stretches of the story we wrote while sleepy and it shows. It’s taking a finer comb to make sure things make sense and we fully flesh out the actions.

The sunlight was harsh, stinging his tired eyes. He looked away, hiding in Thanos' chest. If he stayed still long enough he could pretend it was Thor holding him. 

He coughed roughly, too weak to sit up or look around at all. He kept his face hidden, feeling the hateful eyes of the clergy on him as they went. 

Thanos carried him to a large bathing room and laid him carefully on the floor. He found him a large shirt to wear and set it close by. The waters were lukewarm, but it was better than nothing. He scooped Loki up and set him in.

“Do you need assistance? I’m sure you’re sore, little one, but after all you’ve been through… I understand not wanting to be touched.”

Loki’s vision swirled, his head pounding and everything said to him sounded like it was from far away. He tried to focus on what Thanos was saying to him, but the water was warmer than he’d been in weeks and it made his fatigue that much stronger. 

His head lolled a little, eyes closing. He was half-conscious at best, and regardless of how fearful he might be, he needed to be taken care of. He started to slip beneath the water. 

“Hey, hey -“

Thanos caught him and pulled him upright.

“Okay. Um. I’ve got you, it’s going to be alright. I’ll be gentle.”

He soaped a rag and began to wash the filth and grime from Loki’s fair skin. Beneath the dirt dark bruises marred his flesh, both faded and fresh.

Loki let out a soft whimper of protest, but he was too weak to fight it. He trembled in Thanos’ large hands, body too thin, almost brittle, too gaunt for a child to be.

The welts and split skin on his back were bright red around the scabs, which were infected, swollen. A rash covered his legs and his genitals from being so filthy. His groin was raw, his thighs black with bruises and deep gashes. The wound on his jaw was also swollen, discolored. Everything else was covered in bruises, scrapes and cuts. 

“I don’t want to do this, Loki, but I need - I need to wash between your legs. You could get infected after so long without a proper bath. They had you sitting in your own filth for God knows how long…”

The words reached Loki in fading, far away echoes he could barely register, but a few key words made it to him. 

“D-don’ hurt me…please…” He spoke very, very softly, the plea in his voice gut wrenching. 

“Oh, you sweet thing,” Thanos whispered. “I won’t. I swear to you, I will never hurt you.”

He took the rag and carefully washed Loki’s groin. Mindful of the rash, and of the pain the poor child might feel. When he was done he rinsed him clean.

“I also need to wash your head.”

He hissed and whimpered in pain, fighting against the deep, welcoming darkness trying to pull him under. He didn’t want to sleep again, not yet. This man frightened him, and he knew better than to trust anyone with any power in the church.

“Please, Loki. Please… this is for your health. I know this is scary, but you’re too ill to wash yourself. You might lose consciousness beneath the water. I only want to help. I haven’t harmed you yet, have I little one? Hm?”

Shaking, he slowly shook his head, grunting when the world spun and his temples throbbed from the action.

Thanos leaned him back. He kept his back supported with one hand, the other soaping and rinsing his shaved head.

“There you are. Let’s get you dried and in bed.”

He gathered a towel from a nearby shelf and guided Loki to his feet. Once standing, Thanos gently dried his skin. He pulled the big shirt over Loki’s withered frame and scooped him up in his strong arms.

Loki’s knees shook, and he leaned on Thanos to stay upright rather than fully stand on his own. He was grateful to be covered, and to be something close to warm. He clung to Thanos as he carried him, fever ravaging his little body despite how cold he felt.

Once they reached an empty Rectory bedroom, he tucked Loki under the covers of the large, plush bed and smoothed his hand over Loki’s shaved scalp.

“I’ll have one of the others cook you a meal. For now, you need your rest, Loki. And you need medical attention. I’ll send for a proper doctor.”

As soon as he was settled into the bed, Loki’s eyes rolled back and he passed out. It was too comfortable, too warm and he was too overwrought to fight anymore. He barely heard what Thanos said, but the word ‘rest’ was truly all he needed.

“Loki?” He reached out, gently touching his cheek. Asleep, fast asleep in seconds. He couldn’t blame the boy for needing that escape. 

Clean, sleeping, he was already far better off than he had been, and much more likely to live now, but his wounds were festering, killing him in the form of pain and fever, and he needed to care for those as well. He went to the door, looking around until he spotted a nun attempting to scuttle out of sight and escape him.

“You!” His strong, commanding tone made her freeze before she looked at him in pure terror. “Bring some broth and whatever medicinal supplies you have on hand. And don’t dawdle, this child is dying.

“But…” She began looking around him to the door he was barring. “Isn’t, isn’t that the demon, your grace?”

“We don’t know what he is, Sister, so do as your superior commands. Don’t withhold anything from me that might ease his suffering, and understand I will be tasting everything - should you slip him anything untoward, I will dash your skull upon the steps of the altar.”

He fixed his violet eyes on her, fury burning in the depths of his gaze. Everyone stationed at the church was complicit in Loki’s torture. He wouldn’t hesitate to break every last one of them if they crossed him.

She nodded, open mouthed, and hurried off down the hall she’d been retreating to. 

Thanos sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Nothing about any experience he’d had with this -trials of witchcraft, exorcism- had been this brutal, this sick, depraved and heartbreaking. How it was possible any of the fiends slithering through this church could do what they had to this child was beyond his understanding.

The letter he’d gotten was innocuous, indiscernible from the dozens of others he’d received.

* * *

_ Esteemed Archbishop, _

_ My name is Father Corvus. I am a priest of the Asgardian archdiocese, and I write to you seeking council. As I’m sure you’re aware, Satan is cunning and his followers are crafty. Witches thrive in darkness. Here, in Asgard, one walks with his head held high. An orphan, The circumstances of his arrival are cloaked in foul magic. A storm. Failing crops. Freak accidents. He has cursed our city, and we wish to put him to the Trials. Please grant us your permission to cleanse this witch from our midst. _

_ -Father Corvus _

So simple, so easy. A young man seen as a bad omen likely due to coincidence, bias, what have you. If the people demanded the trials to be had then so be it.

Granting them permission hadn’t been too difficult. A witch was a rare thing - Thanos didn’t want the Asgardian church to begin the hunts anew. They didn’t need panic. If the boy was dealing in dark magic, private trials would be the best solution.

_ Father, _

_ If what you say is true, it is indeed worrisome. You have my permission to run this boy through the trials,  _ **_privately_ ** _ , but heed my words - don’t go looking for confirmation for your own biases. If he passes, he passes, and you will let him be. I’ll come bear witness to your treatment of the child. Give me a week to make the journey. _

_ -Archbishop Tx  _

There. With that solved, he sent the reply off and began his preparations. The journey would take several days, and he needed what time he could take to make sure his own church would be in good hands.

Before Thanos had time to finish packing, a new letter arrived.

_ The boy summoned a blizzard before us and the town! There is no doubt from what we’ve witnessed that he is a demon brought from Hell itself and means to drag us all down with him. I implore you to come immediately - Asgard is in grave peril! Come as soon as you can Archbishop! The devil is among us! We are out of time! _

_ -C _

Before the  _ town _ ?! Had he not told Father Corvus to keep the matter private?! Cursing, Thanos left his clothes and books behind and gathered the horses from the stable. He could make better time on his own. Hooves clattered against the cobblestone as he left for Asgard.

What did Corvus  _ mean  _ the boy summoned a blizzard? Had a storm rolled in during the trials? It wasn’t yet winter, but it was possible. Had he said an incantation? Had frigid winds burst from his fingertips? Thanos wasn’t sure what to expect when he arrived.

But it wasn’t this.

A gaunt, bulbous-headed man draped in a cassock far too big for him greeted Thanos at the entrance to the Asgardian church. He seemed nervous. Afraid. Was that the child’s doing?

“Ah! Archbishop! Finally!” His voice slid from his mouth like poisoned honey, sickly and meant to show his admiration, devotion and praise to him. Thanos ignored whatever flattery he was trying to give, the doubt in his mind growing. 

He stepped down from his horse, passing the reins to a massive man who moved at Ebony’s mere gesture, and the creatures behind him served as hunkered, willowy vultures with hollow smiles and bloodthirsty eyes. The whole affair was unsettling.

Thanos cleared his throat. “Father…?”

“Ebony, sir, Father Ebony,” he said with a bow Thanos ignored, walking past him and into the church proper.

“... Right. Where is the child? This supposed witch?”

Father Ebony cleared his throat and glanced around the chapel nervously, struggling to keep up with the Archbishop’s long strides.

“He is… in the holding cells. Beneath the cathedral, my lord.”

He stopped, turning to look at him directly. He towered over him, casting a great shadow that assured the withered man he could break him into pieces if needed. “The cells? You’ve jailed this boy? Here? Not with the law, but  _ here?” _

“We, we have them for political prisoners, your grace. Refugees. Our own safety. This boy nearly killed us all with this display and we thought it best to put him...away. Where he couldn’t harm anyone else. Other men are weak to the devil’s tricks, your grace, but we who are holy can withstand him. We couldn’t risk him escaping, could we? Not when the righteous thing still needed to be done?”

Thanos stared coldly at the cowardly worm sniveling before him. Already he knew the man was beastly and cruel. Light glimmered in his dark eyes when he spoke of the boy and his displays of evil magic.

Father Ebony was enjoying punishing him.

It made him sick. 

“Take me to these cells, now. I don’t want to hear your excuses. You already ignored my instruction once. I can only imagine what liberties you’ve taken with this boy.” His imagination had been far kinder than what he’d found. Even with a torch to light their way the tunnels were oppressive and smelled of decay along with fresh blood and filth.

Ebony announced his arrival and his eyes rested on the tiny, mutilated body of a very young child. A child who had seen Hell itself in the faces and hands of the people around him. Perhaps the devil had ravaged him so…

Satan, however, may have been kinder to this boy.

* * *

“...My lord?” 

Thanos shook himself from his thoughts, staring at the nun he’d barked at moments ago. She was holding out bandages and poultices resting in a crate with other medicines, as well as a bowl of broth and a pitcher of water. “Thank you, Sister. Tell Mother Superior to be sure one of you is close by in case I have need of you.” 

He didn’t allow for an answer, he simply turned and shut the door behind him, getting to work on treating the child’s wounds. 

It took some time, as well as some quiet, gentle soothing now and again to make sure each and every bit of him had been cleaned and treated. Though he shivered he only draped him in a light sheet, a cold, wet rag on his forehead to ease his raging fever. 

He propped up his little head and slowly fed him mouthfuls of broth with medicine stirred into it. He hoped to ease his pain, which would be far easier when his fever broke. 

In his haze, Loki slipped in and out of consciousness, his dreams and fevered visions swirling together.

A bridge of rainbow glass stretching out for miles, running with his hand clasped in another blond child's, laughing and giggling while they played. 

They rushed to the end, apologizing breathlessly to a tall, dark skinned man with incredible golden eyes and a deep voice that sank into his bones. 

Then a vast, dazzling palace atop a beautiful city not of this world, buzzing with life and prospering peoples. 

Running again, beaming at one another. Thor, still bigger than him but not by much, stopped and spun him around, beaming at him as though he were the whole world. 

"Brother, I have such fun with you," he confessed, tossing his light hair from his bright eyes. "Promise me we'll always be together for such things."

“Thor…” The child cried, speaking to no one, begging for someone Thanos couldn’t see. “Thor, I want Thor…” 

“Shh, shh, I know,” he said softly, easing another mouthful of broth past his little lips. “I know. We’ll find him for you, little one. It’ll be alright.”

Once the child was fed and resting quietly he moved to sit in the chair beside the bed, keeping watch over him throughout the rest of the day and the night that followed. None of these others would lay a single hand on him, not ever again, if he had his way. And he would. 

This farce was through, and the people who caused it were going to be dealt with accordingly. The trials would be finished on his terms and done properly, as they should have been from the start. Loki wouldn’t suffer anymore. 

And, whoever this Thor was, would be found and Loki would be returned to him. So long as...as he wasn’t what Ebony said he was.


End file.
